German Historical Institute London

Bulletin

Volume XXV, No. 1 May 2003

CONTENTS

Seminars 3

Article Secularization: German Catholicism on the Eve of Modernity (Rudolf Schlögl) 5

Review Articles The Never Ending Story: The Unbroken Fascination of the History of the First World War (Sven Oliver Müller) 22 Carl Schmitt: Relevance and Ambivalence (Dirk Blasius) 55 Ideas, Contexts, and the Pursuit of Genocide (Mark Roseman) 64

Book Reviews Guenther Roth, Max Webers deutsch-englische Familiengeschichte 1800–1950 mit Briefen und Dokumenten (Sam Whimster) 88 Olaf Blaschke (ed.), Konfessionen im Konflikt: Das zweite konfessionelle Zeitalter zwischen 1800 und 1970 (Helmut Walser Smith) 101 Björn Biester, Der Innere Beruf zur Wissenschaft: Paul Ruben (1866–1943). Studien zur deutsch-jüdischen Wissenschafts- geschichte (Dorothea McEwan) 107 Karen Hagemann and Stefanie Schüler-Springorum (eds.), Heimat-Front: Militär und Geschlechterverhältnisse im Zeit- alter der Weltkriege (Matthias Reiß) 112 (cont.) Contents

Kai Artinger, Agonie und Aufklärung: Krieg und Kunst in Großbritannien und Deutschland im 1. Weltkrieg (Jay Winter) 125 Arnd Bauerkämper (ed.), Britain and the GDR: Relations and Perceptions in a Divided World (Hermann Wentker) 127

Conference Reports Murder and Monarchy: Office and Tyrannicide in Medieval and Early Modern Europe (Robert von Friedeburg) 133 Monarchy and Religion: The Transformation of Royal Culture in Eighteenth-Century Europe (Michael Schaich) 141

Noticeboard 156

Library News Recent Acquisitions 168

2 SEMINARS AT THE GHIL SUMMER 2003

6 May PROFESSOR MANFRED GÖRTEMAKER (Potsdam) The Decline of the GDR and the Role of the Government of the FRG Manfred Görtemaker is Professor of Modern History at the University of Potsdam. His research interests cover German and European history in the nineteenth and twentieth cen- turies, and the history of international relations. His most recent publications include Geschichte Europas 1850-1918 (2002) and Kleine Geschichte der Bundesrepublik Deutschland (2002). At present he is Guest Professor at St Antony’s College Oxford, where he is working on a project entitled ‘Britain and Germany in the Twentieth Century’.

13 May DR ALARIC SEARLE (Munich) The Wehrmacht on Trial: The Prosecution of Former Gen- erals, Vergangenheitsbewältigung and Public Opinion in the FRG, 1948-60 Alaric Searle is a Post-Doctoral Fellow in the Department of History at the University of Munich. His interests include Western European, Russian, and American military histo- ry, international relations, the history of the secret services in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, and theories and methods of historiography. His PhD thesis, Wehrmacht Generals, West German Society and the Debate on Rearmament, 1949-1959, will be published this year.

27 May DR BRENDAN SIMMS (Cambridge) Eighteenth-Century Britain: A German Power Brendan Simms is Newton-Sheehy Teaching Fellow at the Centre of International Studies at Cambridge University, where he lectures on International History Since 1945. His research interests encompass Central European history dur- ing the Napoleonic period, Anglo-German relations after

3 Seminars

unification, and the conflicts in Bosnia and Kosovo. He is currently editing a volume entitled The Primacy of Foreign Policy in German History, and working on a study of British foreign policy in the eighteenth century, New Worlds and Old Balances. His most recent publication is Unfinest Hour: Britain and the Destruction of Bosnia (2001).

Seminars are held at 5 p.m. in the Seminar Room of the GHIL. Tea is served from 4.30 p.m. in the Common Room, and wine is available after the seminars.

4 ARTICLE

SECULARIZATION: GERMAN CATHOLICISM ON THE EVE OF MODERNITY*

by Rudolf Schlögl

Anyone examining the religious journalism, theological reflection, and pastoral-theological reassurances of the end of the eighteenth and the beginning of the nineteenth century can appreciate the depth of uncertainty among those who had power in the church and among the clerical virtuosi of religion. The large gap separating the educat- ed and moneyed classes from the church and religion was clear, but even among the lower classes, indifference towards the church, igno- rance in matters of faith, and, at best, a superficial, purely habitual piety were apparent. The collapse of the legal and economic institu- tional structure of the Catholic Church in the Holy Roman Empire which took place between 1803 and 1814 thus seemed to presage the imminent end of Catholicism. And from the Lutheran perspective it seemed doubtful whether Protestantism would be able to assume the mantle. Since Woellner’s religious edict of 1788, Lutheranism, too, had witnessed a stream of complaints about the decay of religiosity and church discipline, and the destruction of traditional religious beliefs among Lutheran Christians.1 This discourse was first of all a reaction of theologians, virtuosi of

* Trans. by Angela Davies, GHIL. This article is based on a lecture given at the GHIL in Oct. 2002. A longer version of this article has been published in Walter G. Rödel and Regina E. Schwerdtfeger (eds.), Zerfall und Wiederbeginn: Vom Erzbistum zum Bistum Mainz (1792/97–1830). Ein Vergleich. Festschrift für Friedhelm Jürgensmeier (Würzburg, 2002), pp. 63–82. References here have therefore been kept to a minimum. 1 Cf. e.g. Joseph von Görres, Athanasius, ed. Heinz Hürten (Paderborn, 1998), p. 89; Friedrich Wilhelm Graf, ‘ “Dechristianisierung”: Zur Problemgeschich- te eines kulturpolitischen Topos’, in Hartmut Lehmann (ed.), Säkularisierung, Dechristianisierung, Rechristianisierung im neuzeitlichen Europa: Bilanz und Per- spektiven in der Forschung (Göttingen, 1997), pp. 32–66, at pp. 37–40.

5 Article religion, and lay people of all Christian confessions to the seculariza- tion projects of secular rulers. Even in ecclesiastical electoral states, it was considered both rational and pious from the 1770s on to dissolve monasteries in order to provide a better basis for a university. Beyond this, however, these writings articulated the observation that the world was entering a new relationship with the church and reli- gion. This produced changes in religious institutions as well as in the pious practices of believers, which amounted to a fundamental change in the shape of religion. Thus from the perspective of religion itself, notions such as secularization or de-Christianization summed up the fact that the relationship of the world to religion was clearly changing. To speak of secularization, therefore, is initially to take a religious perspective on the world in order to find out what religion might look like from the other side—from the world.2 That is why this discourse did not remain purely a lamentation. Friedrich Schleier- macher, who paradoxically adopted precisely this internal perspective by imitating an external perspective in his Über die Religion, did not consider that the state of religion in 1799 was such as to cause anxiety. ‘I do not join with most people in claiming the decline of religion’, he wrote, ‘for I do not know of any other period that would have accept- ed it better than the present.’3 Novalis, too, saw in the anarchy of con- temporary upheaval a ‘time of revival’ for the religion of a united Christendom when, in the same year of 1799, he wrote Die Christen- heit oder Europa.4 And a third text dating from 1799 springs to mind: the letter ‘to Dorothea’ written by Friedrich Schlegel who converted to Catholicism only a few years later. In it he explained to his beloved that religion was the best way for women to shape an undivided per- sonality for themselves which, in Schlegel’s words, ‘lives and writes in a divine way’.5 In other words, he saw religion as an education that

2 Cf. Niklas Luhmann, Die Religion der Gesellschaft (Frankfurt/M., 2000), pp. 278–85. 3 Friedrich Schleiermacher, Über die Religion: Reden an die Gebildeten unter ihren Verächtern, ed. Günther Meckenstock (Berlin, 1999), pp. 55 (quotation), 57 f., 63, 109 f., 119. 4 Novalis, Werke, Tagebücher und Briefe Friedrich von Hardenbergs, vol. ii, ed. Hans Joachim Mähl and Richard Samuel (Munich, 1978), pp. 743, 745–7. 5 Friedrich Schlegel, Kritische Schriften und Fragmente (1798–1801), vol. ii, ed. Ernst Behler and Hans Eichner (Paderborn, 1988), pp. 172–5 (quotation at p. 175).

6 German Catholicism on the Eve of Modernity allowed people to find themselves in the profanity of a splintered bourgeois society, and revealed to them their divinity. These texts express confidence in the future importance of a reli- gion that had proved itself as a medium in which Bürger had been able to develop their individuality, and as a remedy against the suf- fering of an existence which bourgeois society had split up into dif- ferent spheres of value and areas of activity. Conversely, however, these texts also express the insight that this was the path of the fault lines that were opening up between the modern world and a church- based piety which aspired to be the crucial and all-shaping perspec- tive on the world and life. In his Athanasius (1837), Joseph Görres warned that he feared that the Rhinelanders, otherwise so pious, ‘would forget the higher things in the face of all the economic and political activity’.6 Much of the present-day scholarly energy devoted to researching the concept of ‘secularization’ concentrates on demonstrating that it is inappropriate because every de-Christianization has been followed by a religious revitalization, as illustrated in particular by the Catholic revival of the nineteenth century.7 But it seems to me that this is simply to give away the essential historiographical and ana- lytical yield of this concept. Instead, one should adopt the perspec- tive of a contemporary observer. Then we can see that the term refers to a profound upheaval that assigned religion a new place in the social structure as well as in individual patterns of action, and which therefore also redefined the form in which the church and religiosity were necessary, but also became possible.8 During the French Revolution, when a new form of constitution- al (national) statehood was translated into reality and the long-run- ning transformation of a society based on Estates into a bourgeois society organized according to the principle of equality was legally ratified, it became clear to what extent religion in general, and

6 von Görres, Athanasius, p. 132. 7 An example of this view is Lehmann (ed.), Säkularisierung, Dechristianisie- rung, Rechristianisierung, especially his own contribution and those by Friedrich Wilhelm Graf, Martin Greschat, and Margaret Lavinia Anderson. 8 Cf. Alois Hahn, ‘Religion, Säkularisierung und Kultur’, in Lehmann (ed.), Sä- kularisierung, Dechristianisierung, Rechristianisierung, pp. 17–32; Hugh McLeod, Secularization in Western Europe 1848–1914 (New York, 2000), pp. 1–30.

7 Article

Catholic religiosity in particular, were intertwined with the disinte- grating order of Old Europe. Therefore the process of transformation associated with it also affected the Catholic Church as an institution in a number of ways. First, its relationship with the political-state order, and thus its form as a political-legal corporation was placed in question. Secondly, this also affected its internal constitution, and thirdly, it was ultimately obliged to adapt the forms of ecclesiastical social integration to changes in the social order, that is, to clarify how, in the course of their social lives, people were known to be Catholics and became members of the church. And fourthly, it was affected as a community of believers as it was now apparent that the traditional forms of piety could change fundamentally or disappear completely. This article concentrates on these four levels, looking at the period from 1750 to 1850 in each case.

I From the Church as an Estate of the Empire to the Church as a Privileged Religious Association As we know, the political-legal constitution of the Catholic Church in the Holy Roman Empire made it one of the state-like units which were overarched by the empire, and which, in turn supported this arch. This is not the place to demonstrate how this state-like nature of the imperial church had placed the political structure of the Holy Roman Empire under considerable strain since 1648, while encour- aging the church to place itself outside the imperial constitution in that it continued to regard Protestants as heretics. The church itself saw this attitude merely as a response to the secularization proviso which had been in place since 1648, and which kept the imaginations of imperial politicians working. Febronian attempts to renew the national church, which reached from the early 1760s to the archepis- copal reform congresses in Koblenz (1769) and Ems (1786), were therefore initially motivated by the desire to make ecclesiastical law conform to imperial law in order to erect a firewall against secular- ization.9

9 Günther Lottes, ‘Die Geistlichen Staaten und die Herrschaftskonkurrenz im Reich’, in Michael Weinzierl (ed.), Individualisierung, Rationalisierung, Säku- larisierung: Neue Wege der Religionsgeschichte (Vienna, 1997), pp. 96–111; Karl Otmar Freiherr von Aretin, Das alte Reich 1648–1806, vol. iii: Das Reich und der österreichisch-preußische Dualismus (1745–1806) (Stuttgart, 1997), pp. 257–97.

8 German Catholicism on the Eve of Modernity

However, it became increasingly obvious that the Febronian enthusiasm for reform was neither beneficial to the imperial struc- ture, nor met the interests of Rome. The Empire’s confessional struc- ture, and especially its statehood based on Estates, did not offer the least support for a national church bringing the confessions together. For Rome, on the other hand, a German Gallicanism plus an episco- palism based on the statehood of its church seemed so threatening that, on the issue of the nunciature, Pius VI came down on the side of a territorial state intent on controlling the church. Thus, when the sec- ular territories in the League of Princes (Fürstenbund) finally turned against the Empire, it was clear that the imperial church had no future either. After the implosion of the ancien régime there was no way back to a state-like church. The concordats negotiated between Rome and the constitutional states of the German Confederation from the Congress of Vienna to 1830 gave the churches the legal form of privileged cor- porations guaranteed by the state. In return, the churches had to endure a strangulating state supervision and could make only limit- ed use of confessional privilege. Napoleon’s Organic Articles and the Bavarian Edict on Religion of 1817 developed the paradigm of this institutional transformation of religion.10 The new legal and political order, of course, looked forwards and backwards at the same time. These non-simultaneities produced the constitutional confessional state because the altar’s support for the throne was trusted more than the legitimation of power through par- ticipation. As a corporation, conversely, the church had lost all state- like qualities. In its privileged position, the principle of a social hier- archy, derived from an Estate-based state, and the legal securing of power and influence continued to be effective, although they now had to be brought into harmony with the idea of a free and equal society of Bürger. The Catholic Church was therefore set free as one confession among others. Differences in belief thus acquired a new legal and social quality. For the first time a standardized legal area,

10 Klaus Dieter Hömig, Der Reichsdeputationshauptschluß vom 25. Februar 1803 und seine Bedeutung für Staat und Kirche (Tübingen, 1969), pp. 30–9, 64–72; Ernst Rudolf Huber, Deutsche Verfassungsgeschichte seit 1789 (Stuttgart 1957), i. 416–41; Hans Ammerich (ed.), Das bayerische Konkordat 1817 (Weißenhorn, 2000).

9 Article spanning the confessions, was assigned to ‘religion’.11 However, from its perspective, the question now arose as to how the ‘rest’ of society was to be reached. The tension between the corporate hedging-in of the confession and its liberation as a religion reveals that in the first half of the nineteenth century the legal and institutional order of society was not adequate to deal with the increasing significance of functional differentiation in the way in which people lived their lives. In an industrializing, market- based society it was difficult (and quickly became irrational) to link earning one’s living with saving one’s soul. Conversely, the many social relationships into which their lives had to fit required people not only to combine these roles, but also to bind them together into a biog- raphical identity. For the institutional shape of religion this meant that the state-like (and thus privileged) corporation was not, ultimately, an appropriate form of organization even if, as was the case in the Bavarian Edict on Religion, it was already combined with the freedom of choice of confession. To be sure, however, the idea of organizing religion on the basis of individual conscience was no longer complete- ly unthinkable. Paragraph 16 of the Vienna Federal Act had suspend- ed the territorial jus reformandi, guaranteed freedom of choice of reli- gion, and stated explicitly that the individual choice of confession could not justify ‘differences in civil and political rights’.12 Confessional con- stitutionalism and the corporate privileges of the church together ini- tially prevented this principle from being observed. Yet the legislators had not considered the confessionally mixed landscapes and confes- sional diasporas that had resulted from Napoleon’s clean-up operation, and which now became potentially explosive in the relationship between church and state. The eruption of the Cologne Troubles was a disquietingly dramatic demonstration of this. In 1837, in his Athanasius, Joseph Görres still spoke with complete abhorrence of the Belgian constitution which had freed the church and completely sepa- rated it from the state. Lamennais and his ideas were still excluded.13

11 Huber, Deutsche Verfassungsgeschichte, i. 398. 12 On provisions relating to the church in the Reichsdeputationshauptschluß cf. Hans-Wolfgang Strätz, ‘Die Säkularisation und ihre nächsten staatskirchen- rechtlichen Folgen’, in Albrecht Langner (ed.), Säkularisation und Säkularisie- rung im 19. Jahrhundert (Munich, 1978), pp. 31–62 (quotation at p. 48). 13 von Görres, Athanasius, p. 21; Hans Maier, Revolution und Kirche: Zur Früh- geschichte der christlichen Demokratie (5th edn.; Freiburg, 1988), pp. 157–88.

10 German Catholicism on the Eve of Modernity

Not until the Paulskirche constitution of 1848 was religion socially organized on the principle of individual conscience protected by fun- damental rights. The idea of a privileged corporation was aban- doned, and the notion of ‘religious communities’ smoothed out the differences between churches and sects. Henceforth, religion was to organize itself in ‘associations’, which meant that piety finally lost any claim to priority among the many individual motives and inter- ests expressed by people. After all, there was a rich associational life in which these manifold interests could publicly be articulated.14

II Internal Constitution: From the Aristocratic Church to a Bureaucratic Organization The development which changed the external institutional aspect of religion from the church as a state into a religious community with associational status also influenced the church’s internal organiza- tion. Above, I referred to this as its internal constitution and the rela- tion of the religious to the social order. As the fundamental lines of development have now been made clear, both points can be dis- cussed more generally. It is well known that the imperial church survived the Refor- mation only as a part of noble society, and that it therefore remained an aristocratic church until secularization. This term therefore stands for a combination of power and property, reaching far down into the smallest branches of the church constitution, which, until the end of the ancien régime, meant that political power, too, was seen primarily as domination. Therefore the separation of a lower, non-aristocratic secondary clergy from a higher, aristocratic, primary clergy repeated the worldly hierarchy of rule within the church. And therefore spiri- tual offices in the church, right down to the village priest and his vicar, were benefices. This had far-reaching consequences for the internal shaping of the church, as the adoption of the function-orientated principles charac- teristic of bureaucratic organizations was often blocked. The defects in the constitution of the ecclesiastical states that Josef Edler von Sartori had discovered in an oft-quoted treatise,15 applied equally to 14 Huber, Deutsche Verfassungsgeschichte, ii. 779. 15 Joseph von Sartori, ‘Statistische Abhandlung über die Mängel in der Regierungsverfassung der geistlichen Wahlstaaten und von den Mitteln, solchen abzuhelfen’, Journal von und für Deutschland, 4 (1787), pp. 121–63.

11 Article the church organization. The top positions in the church hierarchy were reserved for the high and middling Catholic aristocracy of the Empire. The same applied to the majority of positions in cathedral chapters, prelacies, and other canonries, which meant that the high and middling church offices were firmly integrated into the network securing aristocratic status and rule. This not only distorted and undermined the hierarchy of church offices by the accumulation of offices—for example, the Wittelsbach Sekundogenituren in the north- west of the imperial church—but also frequently overlaid the canon- ical hierarchy with dynastic solidarities, as, for example, in the Schönborns’ patronage policy. The interests and objectives of office- holders were also shaped by these connections. Until the end of the eighteenth century, the bishops of the imperial church were, by edu- cation and in their own view, aristocratic cavaliers. In the dioceses, this clerical feudalism meant that the cathedral chapters were large- ly not available to support the church administration, but developed their own aristocratic, Estate-based counterweight which, even on spiritual matters, worked against the spiritual leaders.16 In general, the direction of ministry was often blocked by the archdeaconates held by the canons, which broke the jurisdiction of the vicar-generals, and in general by the system of patronage among the lower clergy, which prevented a thorough-going overhaul of training for the ministry and significantly weakened the episcopal powers of supervision and direction. Whereas, as we have seen, state legislation for the church revealed some continuity beyond the end of the ancien régime, secularization created space and pressure for a fundamental restructuring of the church as an institution. The fact that the previous state-like status of the church had evaporated in two directions affected the institution- al position of the church within the German Confederation as a whole. The structures of the secular state had absorbed most of the church’s former state-like substance and transformed it into state supervision of the church. The other, much smaller part, had been taken by Rome. This happened at the moment when the Roman Curia (and not the bishops) appeared on the concordats as the con-

16 On this see, most recently, Kurt Andermann, ‘Die geistlichen Staaten am Ende des Alten Reiches’, Historische Zeitschrift, 271 (2000), pp. 593–619, with references to the wider literature.

12 German Catholicism on the Eve of Modernity tractual partner of the states of the German Confederation, and it was emphasized when the states initiated diplomatic relations of various sorts with the Holy See. In this situation Rome, almost as a foregone conclusion, assumed the role of guaranteeing the unity of the church. Thus the Catholic clergy’s Ultramontanism was also based on the episcopate’s lack of ability to integrate independently of the state structures, or in opposition to them. Only in the mood of national upheaval generated by the events of 1848 did the bishops of the German Confederation meet for the first time in a German Bishops’ Conference. But they did this without claiming the rights of a nation- al council and put themselves completely under the Pope’s authority on this point.17 This external hierarchization of the church was reflected in its internal re-organization. Since the collapse of the ancien régime, state rule had definitively been transformed into politics by the separation of power and property; similarly, in the church, secularization sepa- rated office, at least in the upper ranks of the hierarchy, from benefice and thus from property. This liberated the dynamic core of function- al creative power in the church hierarchy, and by the middle of the nineteenth century it had already made possible considerable suc- cesses in the bureaucratization and professionalization of the spiritu- al institution. While the church was still treated as a corporation in legal terms, internally it gradually transformed itself into an efficient, bishop-cen- tred organization. This began with the Offizialate, the bishops’ judicial authorities, which were restructured and whose jurisdictional com- petence was in future separated from that of the church administra- tive authorities. Cathedral chapters were defeudalized. After a brief period of transition during which, when the state nominated bishops, the cathedral chapters lost a clearly defined field of duties, the canons took over offices subject to direction by the episcopal administration. The efficiency and scope of episcopal power improved markedly once the archdeacons had lost their power and the deans’ adminis- trations had been cut back. The Cologne Edict of 1827 mentioned that the newly installed deans would preserve the individual members of

17 Joseph Freisen, Verfassungsgeschichte der katholischen Kirche Deutschlands in der Neuzeit: Aufgrund des katholischen Kirchen- und Staatskirchenrechts darge- stellt (Leipzig, 1916), pp. vii f., 5 f.

13 Article the diocesan clergy ‘from fatigue, and maintain them all in God-fear- ing and lively activity’. Priests were no longer able to appoint their own assistants; this power was given directly to the bishops.18 Directly after the secularization, the church lacked clergy who were prepared to engage in ministry. None the less, by the third decade of the nineteenth century, the supply of priests had attained new standards of quality and depth. This was to a small extent because the religious orders were slowly gaining ground again, but it was mainly the result of the setting up of seminaries and the reform of training for the ministry, which now, for the first time, systemati- cally combined theological studies and preparation for pastoral work. From the 1830s, many priests were young, committed men who spoke confidently about their theological studies. They were all the more puzzled, therefore, why ‘of all social groups, priests have the lowest standing’ among the general population, as a clergyman from Cologne put it in 1831 at a Conference of Deans.19 But this alienation had been under way for some time, and its origins lay in clerical professional- ization itself. The libraries of priests reveal that the intellectual hori- zons of the clergy and educated laymen had been moving further and further apart since the last third of the eighteenth century. An investi- gation of the paintings owned by priests would show, additionally, that the clergy was also being marginalized in aesthetic terms.20

III Social Order and Religious Socialization This observation again shows us that the whole process of the insti- tutional re-organization of the church was only superficially to do with strengthening it by adopting the principles of bureaucratic organization. At its heart was the problem of what constituted the overlap between non-church forms of socialization and belonging to

18 Michael N. Eberts, ‘ “Ein Haus voll Glorie schauet ”: Modernisierungs- prozesse der römisch-katholischen Kirche im 19. Jahrhundert’, in Wolfgang Schieder (ed.), Religion und Gesellschaft im 19. Jahrhundert (Stuttgart, 1993), pp. 62–85 (quotation at p. 71). 19 Rudolf Schlögl, Glaube und Religion in der Säkularisierung: Die katholische Stadt—Köln, Aachen, Münster—1700–1840 (Munich, 1995), p. 144. 20 Rudolf Schlögl, ‘Geschmack und Interesse: Privater Bildbesitz in rheinisch- westfälischen Städten vom 18. bis zum beginnenden 19. Jahrhundert’, in Hans-Ulrich Thamer (ed.), Bürgertum und Kunst in der Neuzeit (Cologne, 2001), pp. 123–47, at pp. 139–44.

14 German Catholicism on the Eve of Modernity the church. The complaints quoted at the beginning about the state of religion show that baptism alone was hardly enough to turn citizens into Catholics in a way which gave the church reality and weight as a community of believers. So long as the church was an aristocratic church, at supra-regional level the church’s sovereignty itself, or that of the ruler equipped with the jus reformandi, took care of member- ship. At local level, the rural community and the parish were identi- cal as a living community. Thus the practice of faith and social regu- lation were so closely intertwined as to be indistinguishable.21 In the towns, this form of religious inclusion via social institutions had always been much more difficult because the legal, political, and social order had never, at any time, coincided with the parish. On the whole, therefore, for the urban communes the identity of social and religious integration could only be created symbolically, through processions or pilgrimages. The parish community was absorbed by the urban community. Parish schools, catechesis, and the sacramen- tal as well as social aspects of birth, marriage, and death linked social life and religious observance together, at least for the middle and upper classes. The various forms of voluntary religious socialization, such as confraternities and Marian congregations, had always been more significant in towns. Especially in the larger towns, it had been well known since the beginning of the nineteenth century that increasing horizontal and vertical mobility posed a threat to the parish association, and that stable inclusion in the church could no longer be achieved via the parish community alone.22 It is obvious that with the loss of church sovereignty, the integration of people via upbringing and education, as well as baptism, acquired unprece- dented significance. The issue of mixed marriages and the debate about confessional schools drew their dramatic and explosive quali- ty from here. The discovery of the family as the core of Catholic Christianity also belongs into this context.23

21 Andreas Holzem, Religion und Lebensformen: Katholische Konfessionalisierung im Sendgericht des Fürstbistums Münster 1570–1800 (Paderborn, 2000), pp. 55–155. 22 Schlögl, Glaube und Religion, pp. 178 f. 23 Joachim Maier, ‘Kirche und Schule: Auseinandersetzungen um Schulform und geistliche Schulaufsicht in konfessionell gemischten Staaten’, in Hans Ammerich and Johannes Gut (eds.), Zwischen ‘Staatsanstalt’ und Selbstbestim- mung: Kirche und Staat in Südwestdeutschland vom Ausgang des Alten Reiches bis 1870 (Stuttgart, 2000), pp. 269–93.

15 Article

Against this background, however, the new forms of observance and ministry that increasingly characterized Catholicism from the 1830s also gained social and religious meaning. Lay missions, pil- grimages, and confraternities replaced the ties of parish and of a socialization that had become fragile in the cities anyway, but now also suffered the same fate in many rural areas. These forms of visi- ble mass religiosity had the character of events, and therefore no longer presupposed a permanent identity of social and religious socialization in order to make the individual Christian a member of the church community of faith. The pilgrimage to the Holy Coat of Trier in 1844 was the provisional climax of this ecclesiastical success, and it became synonymous with an expressive, ecstatic piety that was now possible in all classes and made the church as a mass organ- ization widely visible.24 Believers, however, were able to experience how fundamentally the times and the (social) forms of religiosity had changed in the fact that confraternities and pilgrimages were now firmly in the organizing and disciplining hands of the parish clergy, whereas just two generations earlier, laymen had dominated in initi- ating and carrying out these activities. Intellectual Catholicism, finally, created friendship circles in Koblenz, Mainz, Landshut, and Munich. With publications such as Katholiken, which was published from 1821 in Mainz, Eos, which was edited by Ringseis and Görres from 1828, and Historisch-politische Blätter für das katholische Deutschland, which Görres was also involved with from 1838, they created media for milieu integration which made it possible for Catholicism to politicize itself without direct ties to church-based piety.25 A Catholic association movement, which grew hesitantly from the 1840s before taking off rapidly with the Pius Associations of 1848, also built bridges between milieu-related social integration and the church, bridges which were able to separate themselves from a church piety bound to the parish, and thus to

24 Wolfgang Schieder, ‘Kirche und Revolution: Sozialgeschichtliche Aspekte der Trierer Wallfahrt von 1844’, Archiv für Sozialgeschichte, 14 (1974), pp. 419–54; Jonathan Sperber, Popular Catholicism in Nineteenth-Century Germany (Princeton, 1984), pp. 10–38. 25 Cf. the survey by Rudolf Lill, ‘Die Anfänge der katholischen Bewegung in Deutschland’, in Hubert Jedin (ed.), Handbuch der Kirchengeschichte, vol. vi, pt. 1 (Freiburg, 1978), pp. 259–70.

16 German Catholicism on the Eve of Modernity overarch it. Nothing more clearly reveals the new position which religion had found in the functionally differentiated spheres of activ- ity of bourgeois society since the second third of the nineteenth cen- tury than the fact that it was now possible to combine religion with political options, but that it was no longer possible to assume the reli- gion from the politics, or to predict the political position from the reli- gious one. Clemens Brentano had already accused Joseph Görres of scratching himself theologically when he had a political itch.26

IV Religious Conviction and Individuality This brings us to the question of how the reorientation of the church within social structures, and the institutional reorganization of reli- gion associated with it, relate to the religious behaviour of Catholic Christians. Scholarship finds it hard to come up with reliable answers. The few studies which have been done on the Habsburg area, the various regions and towns of France, and (by myself) on towns in the Rhineland-Westphalia area (Cologne, Aachen, and Münster), however, supplement each other and support each other’s conclusions.27 The sources consulted were primarily inventories of books, wills, and Totenzettel (death announcements), but also the the- ological discourse as it reached laymen in the form of prayer books and devotional books, because, naturally, individual motives and personal religious experience give rise to religion as a social phe- nomenon only when these individual convictions are communicated in social contexts. Discussion here will be limited to three aspects: first, the obvious change in the form of piety; second, the shifts in the economy of salvation associated with this; and finally, the place to which believers assigned their Christianity in their own self-image. It has already been mentioned that since the last third of the eight- eenth century, the Catholic clergy in the process of professionalizing

26 Clemens Brentano, Sämtliche Werke und Briefe: Historisch-kritische Ausgabe, ed. Jürgen Behrens et al. (Stuttgart, 1991), p. 254 (Clemens Brentano to Joseph Görres, 22 June 1825). 27 Schlögl, Glaube und Religion, passim; Michael Pammer, Glaubensabfall und wahre Andacht: Barockreligiösität, Reformkatholizismus und Laizismus in Ober- österreich 1700–1820 (Vienna, 1994); on France see John McManners, Church and Society in Eighteenth-Century France, vol. ii: Religion of the People and the Politics of Religion (Oxford, 1998), ch. 3 and references to literature there.

17 Article had shown less and less interest in ‘worldly knowledge’. They began to ignore large areas of contemporary literature, art, and philosophy. Among lay people, the inventories of books document an almost con- trary development. From 1780 to 1830, the proportion of religious titles in the possession of the Rhenish urban bourgeoisie fell from 30 per cent to 10 per cent. In the lay intellectual world, interests were obviously changing, and this increased the distance separating them from their priests. In any case, it was becoming more and more questionable whether traditional religious forms were still appropriate to the times. Wills show clearly that from the 1740s bequests ad pias causas, and especially those for saying masses for the soul of the departed, declined permanently and unstoppably in both quantity and fre- quency. In 1820, fewer than 10 per cent of those leaving a will felt it was necessary to leave such bequests, whereas one century earlier, the figure had been more than 50 per cent. The number of masses donated also fell clearly. As the image of God was reshaped, so the emphases in the economy of salvation changed. From the 1740s, the urban bourgeoisie had increasingly dispensed, in their wills, with expressions in which salvation was bound directly to Christ’s redemptive death. The desire for the intercession of the saints and especially of Mary for the soul lasted longer, but by the second decade of the nineteenth century, bourgeois imaginations had devel- oped a theology in which there was room neither for punishment by a vengeful God, nor for divine mercy, and certainly not for the inter- cession of the saints. It obviously suited the autonomous bourgeois subject better to expect salvation from the caring love of the divine— and from its own efforts. The theology of devotional and prayer books reacted to this retrograde development in the significance of the church sacraments and treasury of merit for the salvation of believers by placing the accents in the doctrine of salvation different- ly. Instead of continuing to stress renunciation of the world, much devotional literature from the second decade of the nineteenth cen- tury on reflected the bourgeois desire to contribute to their own sal- vation by emphasizing that fulfilling the duties of their station in life, and being successful in their professional lives was a way to salvation in the beyond. To be sure, this was done in the awareness that silent dedication of daily work would make the difference, not mingling religious norms with the rationalities of the other spheres of social

18 German Catholicism on the Eve of Modernity action. The Christian could very well attend to his duties as a citizen and a Christian on one and the same day, wrote Andreas Frey, a canonist from Bamberg, arguing that the church and the state did not need to take each other into account when declaring their respective holidays.28 Such expressions signalled an acceptance that being a Christian did not encompass the totality of life, but that it had been reduced to a defined, special part of everyday life and one’s biography, whose relationship with the other aspects of personal identity was not with- out problems. The Totenzettel and the descriptions they give of the deceased’s life demonstrate how powerfully personal identity and Christian existence had been moving apart in all social classes since the 1820s. At the end of the eighteenth century it was customary to see the deceased’s identity as summed up in his soul, and to ask believers to pray for it. Around 1840 the bourgeois concept of the subject in a functionally differentiated society had also reached this sphere. The name (and not the soul) now stood for the person, and mourners were exhorted to remember him or her. The full signifi- cance of this semantic change is revealed by the fact that it applied only to the middle classes and the artisan class, while the aristocracy continued to use the language of hierarchical, Old European society. And finally, the form in which the person was presented also changed markedly. More and more frequently, the different roles in the life of the deceased as described in the Totenzettel fell into sepa- rate compartments, as the husband was placed next to the father and the successful merchant, artisan, or conscientious official. And only then—but by no means in every case—was the reader reminded that the deceased had lived as a Christian. In the Totenzettel of the end of the eighteenth century, by contrast, the brief formula ‘lived as a Christian’ could still be used to describe the integral wholeness of a successful life. In conclusion, a dramatic process of transforming social structures culminated in secularization as a historical event, which therefore increased the pace of further change. I have described how, in the course of this structural shift, which permanently replaced the Old

28 Engelbert Plassmann, Staatskirchenrechtliche Grundgedanken der deutschen Kanonisten an der Wende vom 18. zum 19. Jahrhundert (Freiburg, 1968), pp. 107–10.

19 Article

European, hierarchical social order with a functionally differentiated bourgeois society, religion moved to a new place in the social struc- ture.29 This necessarily involved a change in the form of religion. The legal position of the Catholic Church vis-à-vis state and society changed, as it transformed itself from a sovereign association to one religious community among others, though still a privileged one. In its internal structure as an institution, it merged hierarchical order and bureaucratic principles of organization after the abolition of the system of benefices. The plurality of life orders in nineteenth-century society made new forms of integrating social contexts and member- ship of a confession possible and necessary. In them, however, piety and church membership sometimes moved so far apart that other dif- ferences, such as that between religion and politics, for example, were blurred again. Finally, there are references by Catholics to how difficult it became to integrate being a Christian with the differenti- ated roles of a bourgeois life. These processes did not always run completely in parallel in tem- poral terms, but each one individually and all of them in their entire- ty can be ‘understood’ if they are brought into connection with the transformation of social structural patterns to which I have alluded. One substantive and one methodological conclusion can be drawn from this. The substantive conclusion is that the Romantic hope of finding a new social unity and individual subjectivity in religion was not realized. Where it was attempted, the result came close to inte- gralistic fundamentalism. In the modern world religion was (and remained) one social sphere among others. The methodological con- clusion is that it makes sense to observe the world from the perspec- tive of religion, and then to speak of secularization. This can also mean an irreversible alienation from the church. From its origins, the term refers to the place which religion occupies in the social structure of the world, and consequently to the form of the religion which is possible and necessary in these structures. That is why to cite re- Christianization or a ‘Catholic revival’ as arguments against secular-

29 One issue to discuss is what contribution the religion of premodern times made to the rise of modernity itself; cf. Rudolf Schlögl, ‘Historiker, Max Weber und Niklas Luhmann: Zum schwierigen (aber möglicherweise pro- duktiven) Verhältnis von Geschichtswissenschaft und Systemtheorie’, Soziale Systeme, 7 (2001), pp. 23–45, esp. pp. 34–7; Kaspar von Greyerz, Religion und Kultur: Europa 1500–1800 (Göttingen, 2000), pp. 325–41.

20 German Catholicism on the Eve of Modernity ization is only to a limited extent helpful. In this case, historians are well advised to accept the judgement of theologians.

RUDOLF SCHLÖGL holds the chair of Early Modern History at the University of Constance. He is the author of Glaube und Religion in der Säkularisierung: Die katholische Stadt—Köln, Aachen, Münster— 1700–1840 (1995) and is currently working on politics in early mod- ern towns as a problem of communication.

21 REVIEW ARTICLES

THE NEVER ENDING STORY: THE UNBROKEN FASCINATION OF THE HISTORY OF THE FIRST WORLD WAR*

by Sven Oliver Müller

ROGER CHICKERING and STIG FÖRSTER (eds.), Great War, Total War: Combat and Mobilization on the Western Front, 1914–1918, Publica- tions of the German Historical Institute, Washington, D.C. (Cam- bridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000), xii + 531 pp. ISBN 0 521 77352 0. £42.50. $60.00 HEW STRACHAN, The First World War, vol. 1: To Arms (Oxford: Ox- ford University Press, 2001), xix + 1,227 pp. ISBN 0 19 820877 4. £30.00 MICHAEL HOWARD, The First World War (Oxford: Oxford Univer- sity Press, 2002), xxi + 154 pp. ISBN 0 19 285362 7. £11.99. $17.95 (hard- back). ISBN 0 19 289445 6. £8.99. $14.95 (paperback) ARIBERT REIMANN, Der große Krieg der Sprachen: Untersuchungen zur historischen Semantik in Deutschland und England zur Zeit des Ersten Weltkriegs, Schriften der Bibliothek für Zeitgeschichte, NS 12 (Essen: Klartext Verlag, 2000), 311 pp. ISBN 3 88474 858 0. EUR 29.50 ULRICH SIEG, Jüdische Intellektuelle im Ersten Weltkrieg: Kriegser- fahrungen, weltanschauliche Debatten und kulturelle Neuentwüfe (Berlin: Akademie, 2001), 400 pp. ISBN 3 05 003542 0. EUR 44.80 JEFFREY VERHEY, The Spirit of 1914: Militarism, Myth and Mobili- zation in Germany, Studies in the Social and Cultural History of Mod- ern Warfare, 10 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000), 268 pp. ISBN 0 521 77137 4. £37.50 MATTHEW STIBBE, German Anglophobia and the Great War, 1914– 1918 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001), xii + 267 pp. ISBN 0 521 78296 1. £40.00. $60.00 JOHN HORNE and ALAN KRAMER, German Atrocities, 1914: A His- tory of Denial (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 2001), xv + 608 pp. ISBN 0 300 08975 9. £27.50 * I should like to thank Angela Davies, GHIL, for her accurate translation.

22 Historiography of the First World War

Any scholar investigating the First World War is entering a field of historical research that is highly topical and yet mined with prob- lems. Interest in the Second World War hardly seems to require explanation, given the unprecedented levels of human barbarism attained and the continuing international debates, encompassing political and moral dimensions, about the historical status of the Holocaust and the Wehrmacht’s crimes. But the fascination which the First World War still seems to hold for European scholars is surpris- ing. Since the end of the 1980s, research in Germany has been catch- ing up with developments in Britain, France, and the USA. For a long time, the memory of the First World War fell victim to the Second World War in Germany. While the Great War has been a continuing presence in the political culture and the historical research of Britain and France, in Germany it was overshadowed by its more horrific successor. Unlike in Britain, for example, where the First World War claimed almost three times as many casualties as the Second World War, in Germany the horrors and the consequences of the Nazi war of extermination long justifiably claimed the lion’s share of public and academic interest. This also applied to the historiographical debates taking place in the context of the continuing discussion of the historical location of National Socialism. The unbroken interest in the history of the Great War is essential- ly connected to two factors. It relates first to the boom in cultural his- tory, and secondly, to the fact that the First World War has achieved the status of a political half-way point. Historians have long been interested almost exclusively in the political, diplomatic, and military aspects of the war, but new emphases were placed by social histori- ans from the 1960s, and by cultural historians during the late 1980s. While social history writing on the First World War was orientated towards generalizing explanatory models,1 cultural historians ex-

1 Cf., as the most striking example, the classic work by Jürgen Kocka, with the programmatic title Klassengesellschaft im Krieg: Deutsche Sozialgeschichte 1914–1918 (2nd edn.; Göttingen, 1978); and G. D. Feldman, Army, Industry and Labor in Germany 1914–1918 (Princeton, 1966). On Britain cf. B. Waites, A Class Society at War: England 1914–1918 (Leamington Spa, 1987); C. Wrigley, David Lloyd George and the British Labour Movement: Peace and War (Brighton, 1976); and the systematic survey by S. Constantine (ed.), The First World War in British History (London, 1995).

23 Review Articles pressed increasing concern at a history of society which seemed to run the risk of excluding mentalities and the perspective of the indi- vidual. At present, historical interest in the First World War focuses on reconstructing the lives of ordinary people at the front and on the home front under the slogan: ‘the war of the little man.’2 In a similar way, interest has developed in the war experiences of broad sections of the population at home, often taking the form of regional studies. In particular, the myth of the ‘August experience’, which postulated that the vast majority of the population of all societies involved in the war greeted the events of August 1914 with euphoria and enthusi- asm, has been refuted for Germany in recent years.3 With the increas- ing interest in the analysis of individual perceptions and interpreta- tions, German historiography on the First World War has been catch- ing up with research in Britain and France. As long ago as 1975, Paul Fussel in Britain had already raised the issues of cultural appropria- tion and confronting the war with the help of language. The most recent trend in research on the First World War is to study the per- spective of individuals, their experiences, and their semantic con- struction of their environment by decoding patterns of cultural inter-

2 Cf. B. Ulrich, Die Augenzeugen: Deutsche Feldpostbriefe in Kriegs- und Nachkriegszeit 1914–1933 (Essen, 1997); on the mood among the rural popula- tion see B. Ziemann, Front und Heimat: Ländliche Kriegserfahrungen im südlichen Bayern 1914–1923 (Essen, 1997); on Britain see J. G. Fuller, Troop Morale and Popular Culture in the British and Dominion Armies 1914–1918 (Oxford, 1990); and E. J. Leed, No Man’s Land: Combat and Identity in World War I (Cambridge, 1979). 3 In France, Jean-Jaques Becker’s pioneering study 1914: Comment les Français sont entrés dans la guerre was published in Paris as long ago as 1977. Nothing similar yet exists for Britain, despite the comparative approach in N. Ferguson, The Pity of War (London, 1998), and the work of P. Panayi, The Enemy in Our Midst: Germans in Britain during the First World War (New York, 1991). For the ‘August experience’ and the mood at the beginning of the war in Germany, cf., apart from the work by Verhey under review here, T. Raithel, Das ‘Wunder’ der inneren Einheit: Studien zur deutschen und französi- schen Öffentlichkeit bei Beginn des Ersten Weltkrieges (Bonn, 1996); C. Geinitz, Kriegsfurcht und Kampfbereitschaft: Das Augusterlebnis in Freiburg. Eine Studie zum Kriegsbeginn 1914 (Essen, 1998); W. Kruse, Krieg und nationale Integration: Eine Neuinterpretation des sozialdemokratischen Burgfriedensschlusses 1914/1915 (Essen, 1993); and Ziemann, Front und Heimat.

24 Historiography of the First World War pretation and perceptions through the analysis of language.4 The First World War offers a wealth of long neglected material on the cul- tural history and the everyday lives of the wartime societies without burdening historians with the political and moral problems which any study of the Second World War involves. Primarily, however, the international boom in First World War studies can be explained by the character of the First World War as a turning point. Confronted with the changes of 1989–91, historians paid greater attention to periodization and the beginning of the ‘short twentieth century’, as Eric Hobsbawm puts it.5 The reshaping of civil society and the redrawing of the map after 1918 supported this thesis. It is not only in post-reunification Germany—a country which surely does not lack historical upheavals—that the signifi- cance of this break is emphasized. If anything British historiography places even greater stress on the political, social, and cultural changes caused by this war, apparently because recent British history lacks more clear-cut divisions.6 Thus from the perspective of comparative European history the First World War appears less as the run-up to the Second World War than as the opening of a new Thirty Years War in Europe. It marks the beginning of a period of radical changes in European societies between 1914 and 1945.7

4 Cf. esp. P. Fussel, The Great War and Modern Memory (London, 1975). Fundamental to the criticism of Fussel’s ‘modernist’ variant of the literary- aesthetic reception of the war and on the state of cultural history research on the First World War is J. M. Winter, Sites of Memory, Sites of Mourning: The Great War in European Cultural History (Cambridge, 1995). Cf. T. Bogacz, ‘ “A Tyranny of Words”: Language, Poetry, and Antimodernism in England in the First World War’, Journal of Modern History, 58 (1986), pp. 643–68; G. L. Mosse, Fallen Soldiers: Reshaping the Memory of the World Wars (Oxford, 1990). 5 E. J. Hobsbawm, Age of Extremes: The Short Twentieth Century, 1914–1991 (London, 1994). 6 On the state of the discussion, cf. the summary by M. Prinz, ‘Der Erste Weltkrieg als Zäsur der britischen Geschichte? Eine Deutung im Span- nungsfeld von Geschichtsschreibung, Politik und Erinnerungskultur’, in H. Mommsen (ed.), Der Erste Weltkrieg und die Europäische Nachkriegsordnung: Sozialer Wandel und Formveränderung der Politik (Cologne, 2000), pp. 207–31. 7 Cf. H.-U. Wehler, ‘Der erste Totale Krieg: Deutschland im Weltkrieg von 1914–1918’, in id., Umbruch und Kontinuität: Essays zum 20. Jahrhundert (Munich, 2000), pp. 122–37.

25 Review Articles

The upheavals and the contradictory lines of development thrown up by the First World War provide a great deal of material for the continuing debates about how the war should be historically located.8 The question which continues to be interesting to the pres- ent day is: how ‘total’ was the First World War? How comprehen- sively and how permanently did the conflict affect the way in which wars were conducted, and the structure of the societies which were involved in them? How important were its technical, economic, polit- ical, social, and cultural innovations with respect to warfare in the twentieth century? The publications under review here testify to the continuing fascination exerted by these problems. I shall begin by discussing those which look at the operative and industrial-technical changes in warfare. Then the perspective from the battlefields is reversed, and the cultural-ideological mobilization of the home front is investigated in relation mainly to new publications on German his- tory during the First World War. The First World War marks both the end and the beginning of an era in warfare. While the American Civil War and the Franco– German War of 1870 indicated that military operations were becom- ing technical in a new way, the First World War was a preliminary stage towards the far more ‘total’ Second World War.9 In the intro- duction to the third volume of their ambitious project, which follows the development of total war from its beginnings in the nineteenth century to 1945, the editors Roger Chickering and Stig Förster point to the transitional nature of the Great War. This raises the question of what conditions made the new form of warfare possible. The authors are particularly interested in whether firm criteria can be found to define the phenomenon of ‘totality’. To this end, they make use of the

8 The issues of how ‘modern’ and how ‘total’ the First World War was, and whether, at least on the home front, it opened up more chances than it closed, as was often claimed in the heady days of the 1960s, have long been highly controversial. Cf. esp. A. Marwick, The Deluge: British Society and the First World War (New York, 1965), and the opposing view in Waites, A Class Society at War. 9 On this cf. the first two of a planned total of five volumes: S. Förster and J. Nagler (eds.), On the Road to Total War: The American Civil War and the German Wars of Unification, 1861–1871 (New York, 1997); M. F. Boemeke, R. Chickering, and S. Förster (eds.), Anticipating Total War: The German and American Experiences, 1871–1914 (New York, 1999).

26 Historiography of the First World War

Weberian notion of ideal types in their introduction. They argue that while ‘total war’ will never be completely realized, as a model it pro- vides standards for historical analysis. Thus in any individual case, it is not only the mobilization of the fighting forces that needs to be investigated. Equally, attention must be paid to the mobilization of the economy and finances, of the élites and the masses, with all their inevitable political, social, and cultural consequences. ‘Total war’ thus also marks a high point of emotional and mental tension, an interaction between hostility, nationalism, and racism. In the view of the editors, two things in particular need to be investigated: first, the extent of social transformation dictated by the war, and secondly, the dynamic reciprocal relationship between war and society. The contributions by Hew Strachan and Roger Chickering pick up these threads in the first of the volume’s six sections. Strachan shows how technical and tactical innovations changed the conditions under which war was fought. Looking at the paths and detours taken by ‘grand strategy’ between 1861 and 1918, he demonstrates the connec- tions between tactics and strategy, politics and mobilization in war. Perhaps he overestimates the value of tactical and strategic planning, but the extent to which the technical and strategic innovations of the war allowed it to become ‘total’ is clear. Chickering correctly points out that the war of position on the Western front, in which not many decisions were required, considerably expanded the home front’s chance to make decisions, and increased the pressure for mobiliza- tion on the societies at war. Yet this process of mobilization did not follow any planned logic. Churchill’s motto of ‘business as usual’ applied not only in Britain. The combatants adapted to the new cir- cumstances of an industrialized war only gradually, and then only by improvising. Comparing British and German mobilization during the initial phases of the war, Chickering explains a characteristic par- adox. Precisely because Britain was less prepared for a big war than Germany in 1914, it adapted much more successfully to the new forms of warfare than Germany, whose freedom to improvise was hampered by long-term decisions which had already been made in advance. The second section demonstrates the extent to which logistical and technical changes revolutionized what happened in the war. In the field of logistics, Martin van Creveld shows that the First World War marks a decisive break with all the known campaigns of the

27 Review Articles past. New weapons and machines consumed unprecedented amounts of ammunition and material, and thus made total war not only possible, but actually necessary. Ironically, the fact that the armies depended on railways for their supplies was a crucial factor in producing the war of position. Fighting forces on the Western front were forced to conduct a sort of ‘permanent siege warfare’, and were therefore less mobile than they had been during the Napoleonic Wars. Dennis Showalter demonstrates how the conceptual horizons of industrial mass production dating from the nineteenth century created the battles of matériel. This type of warfare, therefore, could only be conducted in highly industrialized, north-western Europe. Only at an operative level is it legitimate, according to Showalter, to speak of a ‘modern style of warfare’ (p. 91). At mental and ideologi- cal level, however, the First World War was more in the tradition of the nineteenth than of the twentieth century. The third section concerns the war against the civilian population. In their essay John Horne and Alan Kramer summarize the findings of their pioneering study on the behaviour of German soldiers in Belgium and France in 1914 (reviewed below). The excesses of the German troops cost several thousand civilian lives, and demonstrat- ed not only a new dimension of unconditional hostility, but also the permeability of the traditional distinction between combatants and non-combatants. Avner Offner also illuminates aspects of the war against civilian societies in relation to British blockade policy and German counter-measures. Although the strategy of blockades final- ly achieved its goal of decisively weakening Germany’s resources and organizational powers, this success could not be planned. Offner convincingly discusses the chances that political actors had to act, and the limits of their opportunities. Ultimately, he demonstrates the impossibility of planning total wars, as their consequences are uncontrollable. According to Holger Herwig, the German U-boat campaign was based on the same war image. A complete victory was to be achieved by means of ‘total’ warfare, and the death of numer- ous civilian victims was accepted. In fact, after initial successes, the unlimited submarine war that Germany declared in January 1917 ended in a fiasco. The fact that there were too few boats and a num- ber of miscalculations, especially the mistaken assumption that mod- ern industrial states could be starved into submission, were respon- sible. The intention, not the implementation, of the submarine war

28 Historiography of the First World War was ‘total’. Christian Geinitz discovers a comparable tendency in respect of Allied strategy for the air war against Germany. In absolute figures, the air war claimed relatively few victims among the civilian population, but the concept behind it opened a new dimension in warfare.10 In Germany, civilian victims were seen as having fallen in the war, and within the framework of commemora- tions, a semantic unity was established between front and home. The fourth section investigates the strategic concepts of leading politicians and generals, mostly in respect of warfare on the Western front. More surprising insights, however, are provided by the fifth section on the war economy and war finances. Thus Keith Grieves emphasizes that although Lloyd George was in favour of a ‘total war’, the British war economy was not thoroughly reorganized. Pro- duction for war started late, and was improvised. Questions of own- ership and the freedom of entrepreneurs were hardly touched. Above all, however, even the more strongly interventionist state remained committed to the liberal economic and social tradition. The government expected to achieve more by balancing capital and labour than by imposing collective coercive measures against the labour movement. Niall Ferguson analyses the differences between the ways in which the Germans and the British financed the war. He refutes the common view that Germany lost the war partly because it financed the war inadequately by indebting itself, rather than by rais- ing taxes. Absolute, not relative figures, were crucial to Britain’s suc- cess. The Allies were able to mobilize almost twice as much capital as the Central Powers. In effect, despite statements to the contrary, all the belligerent powers used traditional forms of financing the war. The concluding sixth section discusses the mobilization of the home front. On the whole, Richard Bessel suggests for the German case, military and economic mobilization was successful at least until 1916, whereas mental readiness for the war decreased early on. The author, however, seems to confuse the effects of propaganda with those of nationalism when he stresses the state’s inefficiency in ma- nipulating public opinion. Meaning cannot be created by administra- tive means. Yet Bessel finds, interestingly, that the attempt to mobi-

10 Cf. already J. Kuropka, ‘Die britische Luftkriegskonzeption gegen Deutschland im Ersten Weltkrieg’, Militärgeschichtliche Mitteilungen, 27 (1980), pp. 7–24.

29 Review Articles lize economic resources ‘totally’ in the context of the Hindenburg programme and the Hilfsdienstgesetz not only did not produce the intended results, but actually endangered what economic and politi- cal achievements had already been attained. Arthur Marwick, final- ly, cannot find a relationship between the Great War and develop- ments in art. The transformation of the arts at the beginning of the twentieth century was a consequence not of the war, but of moderni- ty. Yet according to Marwick, the upheavals of war made society from the 1920s increasingly receptive to contemporary literature, music, and painting. Thus the First World War represented a cultur- al turning point, and from this point of view, too, can be seen as a ‘total war’. As a whole, the volume is made attractive by the extremely high quality of the contributions, and by its discussion of important ques- tions concerning the historical location of the First World War. By working with the ideal type of ‘total war’, the volume is able to demonstrate the extent, and especially the limits, of ultimately unsuccessful attempts at complete military and social mobilization. Compared with this, the volume’s flaws hardly count. However, the predominantly Western European research perspective is regret- table. Once again, the focus is explicitly on events at the Western front, and by neglecting the global character of the First World War, an important dimension of total war has been ignored. The first part of Hew Strachan’s monumental three-volume histo- ry of the First World War is remarkable in almost every respect. This applies not only to the extent (1,227 closely printed pages), but also to the consistently implemented comparative approach—something which has not been done before. Thus Strachan creates a multifaceted image of the first phase of the war as a struggle between six belliger- ent powers with all their relations and problems. Unlike the vast majority of work on the First World War, Strachan’s book empha- sizes the truly global dimensions of the theatres of war, drawing attention to events in western and eastern Europe, to the war in the Middle East, the colonial war in Africa, and the naval war in the Atlantic and Pacific. In doing so, Strachan combines a chronological account of developments up to 1915–16 with a systematic analysis. In the introductory chapter, Strachan investigates the origins of the First World War. He explores the tensions between Germany and Austria-Hungary and the other European powers on the eve of hos-

30 Historiography of the First World War tilities. While there could be no question of a deliberate ‘Griff nach der Weltmacht’ (bid for world power),11 Strachan does regard Ger- many’s aggressive foreign policy as essentially responsible for the outbreak of war. However, he suggests that the momentum which the European system of alliances had developed was crucial in the July crisis. In the second chapter Strachan looks at the domestic poli- cy considerations which influenced the outbreak of war. Although many governments believed that public opinion in their countries was driving them to war, in fact a rather contradictory mixture of fear, enthusiasm, and readiness dominated everywhere. Strachan emphasizes social acceptance as a necessary condition for the con- duct of ‘total’ wars. This was especially noticeable in the attitude of the labour movements, which, in all the countries under comparison, accepted war as a method of defending their existence as nation- states. Strachan, however, does not pay enough attention to the most recent research on the ‘August experience’. This has strongly rela- tivized the myth of universal enthusiasm for the war.12 Thus Strachan occasionally falls into the trap, which he himself recognizes, of taking the praises of the intellectual apologists in the summer of 1914, the views of journalists, professors, and clergy as representative of society. Instead of speaking of ‘war enthusiasm’ in Germany, Britain, France, and even Russia, it might have been advisable to refer to the findings gradually emerging from the research. In the following sections, Strachan reverses the perspective, as it were, and investigates the mobilization and the war planning of the European armies. Given that fighting forces were approximately equal, strategic and tactical planning assumed great significance. Strachan illustrates this by comparing the Schlieffen Plan and Joseph Joffre’s Plan XVII. Yet logistical incompetence and military miscalcu- lations marked the preparations and the first battles on both sides. Whereas by autumn 1914 the Western front was still paralysed by battles for position, the fronts in eastern Europe were fluid. But the human and material costs of mobile warfare there were extremely high. This is also illustrated by the problems of warfare in Africa.

11 F. Fischer, Griff nach der Weltmacht: Die Kriegszielpolitik des kaiserlichen Deutschland 1914–1918 (Düsseldorf 1961), published in English as Germany’s Aims in the First World War (London, 1977). 12 Cf. the works cited in note 3.

31 Review Articles

Strachan draws a sharp contrast between the unknown logistical, medical, and communications-technological difficulties of the African campaigns and the usual image of the First World War as consisting of battles of matériel. The pre-modern character of the bat- tles in Africa had nothing to do with an industrialized, let alone ‘total’ war. However, he suggests, the extension of hostilities to numerous Islamic societies in the Middle East and North Africa did indeed initiate a new form of warfare. In its crusade against the exist- ing colonial order, Germany in particular, with Turkey’s help, issued a call for a ‘holy war’ against the Allies. Chapters ten and eleven, on war finances and the war economy respectively, are among the most successful parts of the book. Strachan presents a fascinating account, once again from a masterly comparative perspective, of the role of finances and taxation as nec- essary conditions of modern warfare. In general, under the motto of ‘business as usual’, the war was financed by credit everywhere. Yet the enormous economic and fiscal costs of industrial mobilization increasingly became a central political problem. The war of position created an enormous requirement for munitions and matériel. This meant that the state had to reorganize society thoroughly, giving pri- ority to the war economy. To the extent to which armaments pro- duction and supplying a mass army became society’s main task, this development increasingly affected existing power relations because it regulated control over people and material in a new way. Chapter twelve, which sums up the author’s findings, is the intel- lectual highlight of the book. On a solid basis, Strachan describes the First World War as a battle of ideologies. The ultimate goal of the combatants was to defend or to impose their own images of the world, values, and interests. According to Strachan, the war was con- ducted as a quasi-religious war, or at least legitimized by the pas- sions, the unconditionality, and the methods of religious thinking. He particularly directs the reader’s attention to the religious dimen- sion of nationalist ideas and enemy images.13 The German–British conflict in particular was exaggerated by public opinion in both

13 Cf. P. Walkenhorst, ‘Nationalismus als “politische Religion”? Zur religiösen Dimension nationalistischer Ideologie im Kaiserreich’, in O. Blaschke (ed.), Religion im Kaiserreich: Milieus, Mentalitäten, Krisen (Gütersloh, 1996), pp. 503–29.

32 Historiography of the First World War countries and elevated into a matter of principle. To conduct a war of nationalist ideology also signified a complete fixation on the enemy without and within. It meant daring to wage an unconditional con- flict whose only possible outcomes were victory or destruction, and which excluded a negotiated peace.14 Seen from this point of view, the foundations of ‘total war’ were laid as early as 1914. This is anoth- er justification for seeing this year as marking the end of the nine- teenth century and the beginning of the era of a thirty years war. Despite all the merits of this ambitious project, a number of flaws cannot be overlooked. Thus the preponderance of traditional military history at the expense of political, social, and cultural history is regrettable. Strachan is visibly in his element when it comes to strat- egy and campaigns. He promises to provide the history of experience and the cultural history of the war in his second volume. Instead of finding out about the experiences of soldiers at the front, or the prob- lems of women on the home front, we read, on 650 out of 1,140 pages, about how General Staffs planned and executed battles, about how men make history.15 Moreover, as the result of the international com- parison, the societies investigated sometimes appear interchange- able. A stronger emphasis on the differences would have been informative. Ultimately, however, these objections hardly count in the context of the overall achievement of this volume, which sets new standards. The reciprocal relationship between the front and the home front has rarely been so knowledgeably portrayed. Again and again, Strachan reveals the structural conditions for the course and the outcome of a particular battle. Strachan’s work is convincing not only because of its comparative approach, the wealth of material it draws upon, and the author’s mastery of the masses of literature on the First World War, but also because it questions established notions about the Great War. It is precisely the vivid depictions of theatres of war and forms of war which have not received much attention that delineate

14 Cf. S. O. Müller, Die Nation als Waffe und Vorstellung: Nationalismus in Deutschland und Großbritannien im Ersten Weltkrieg (Göttingen, 2002); id., ‘Who is the Enemy? The Nationalist Dilemma of Inclusion and Exclusion in Britain during the First World War’, European Review of History, 9 (2002), pp. 63–83. 15 On the limits of the conventional history of military operations, cf. the con- tributions in T. Kühne (ed.), Was ist Militärgeschichte? (Paderborn, 2000).

33 Review Articles the limits of an industrial, modern world war. Subsequent volumes of this world history of the First World War will be awaited with great expectations. Michael Howard’s new book on the First World War is on a dif- ferent scale. His intention is to provide a brief introduction to the his- tory of the Great War. In a condensed essay of about 150 pages in length, the Old Master of British military history presents the sum of his knowledge. He narrates the history of the First World War chronologically, taking a bird’s-eye comparative view, from the con- ditions of 1914 to its incriminating heritage for the twentieth century. His main interest is reserved for military events and developments (especially on the British side), without a knowledge of which, according to Howard, the transformation of European societies by the war cannot be correctly understood. Howard begins by speaking of the crises of the years prior to 1914. In the years before the Great War, it seems, the world had lost its transparency for many people. The processes of domestic and foreign policy could no longer be predicted. Whereas the rapid economic, social, and political changes at the beginning of the twentieth centu- ry had been seen as offering opportunities in a climate of euphoria about progress, by the eve of the First World War the yardsticks had changed. In his introductory comparative survey of the interaction between domestic and foreign policy since the turn of the century, Howard describes the new mood of crisis and the international ten- sions. Especially for Britain, the superpower of the nineteenth centu- ry, the twentieth century began most unpromisingly. Relative eco- nomic and power-political decline was Britain’s formative experi- ence. British economic growth could no longer keep pace with that of its major challengers, Germany and the USA. The colonial conflicts of the 1890s showed that Britain’s isolation had long stopped being ‘splendid’, and thus raised the question of whether the country was still strong enough to keep its huge empire together. Britain’s initial humiliation in the Boer War (1899–1902) demonstrated the total inad- equacy of its military capacity. And just at the time when Britain was becoming convinced that it was increasingly on the defensive, Ger- many began its unprecedented naval arms race, aimed at Britain’s jugular. In Germany, the hectic activism of rearmament at sea and on land in the years after 1900 blinded many people to the fact that a more efficient Britain had already won the arms race at sea.

34 Historiography of the First World War

Howard makes clear how the prodigious dimensions of the First World War revolutionized political ideas and military operations in all the belligerent states and armies. The dreadful sacrifice of human life and matériel in the Great War created a new type of crisis of political legitimation within the societies at war. The amount of territory which the German armies gained at Verdun and the British troops won on the Somme could be covered with the corpses of their own soldiers. On 1 July 1916, the first day of the Somme offensive alone, the British sus- tained 60,000 casualties (almost 21,000 dead). The shocks of the battles of matériel changed the home front. The leaders of an industrialized war assumed comprehensive economic, social, and political mobilization. The belligerent states reacted to the challenge to the existing order which the war represented by attempting to mobilize their entire resources and to control their use. Hefty state intervention in the existing order and the enormous costs in terms of lives and goods dramatically increased the pressure for justification on the ruling élites. The repercussions of a new form of warfare, turning inward, changed the existing social order. Unfortunately, Howard does not completely achieve what he sets out to do. In the introduction, he promises to present his account of events under the triad, demanded by Clausewitz, of government poli- cy, military actions, and human passions. Yet Howard’s essay is unquestionably an example of the primacy of classical operational his- tory. As he himself concedes, this is at the expense of social, economic, and cultural history. This limitation is not only highly conventional, but given the research that has been done on the First World War in recent decades, it is also highly questionable. Moreover, Howard’s book is written from a Tory perspective—probably inevitable in his case. The role of the people and of the labour movement is frequently distorted in an élitist way. Thus the uncontrolled outbreak of the ‘mass- es’ is contrasted with the rational calculations of the rulers (cf. pp. 33, 67). These reservations, however, do not detract from the overall pos- itive impression. Anyone who wants a concise account of the First World War from a comparative perspective in English would be hard put to find a more knowledgeable one than this. Howard explains what was new about the First World War, what conditions made it possible, and which of its consequences can still partly be felt today. Exaggerating slightly to make a point, he presents the more or less sympathetic qualities of the individual states and actors. As an added bonus, all this is done in an absolutely brilliant style.

35 Review Articles

At present, cultural studies perhaps best demonstrate the contin- uing political and historiographical fascination of the First World War. Increasingly, younger historians are attempting to combine the dimensions of politics and culture at a high level. So far, these two dimension have, as a rule, been treated in isolation. Up to now, polit- ical and social history have ignored the cultural elements of the peri- od as often as cultural histories of the Great War have neglected the political impact of the creation of meaning. Now, instead, attention is more often paid to the legitimation of interests and their mediation at the same time. The prospect of a political cultural history of the First World War has appeared on the horizon. Aribert Reimann investigates the interpretations with whose aid contemporaries conferred ‘sense’ on the war and its consequences. He is interested in the forms and social function of language and world images in the wartime societies of Germany and Britain. He sees language as a necessary set of everyday reading glasses, with whose help different social groups and individuals grasp and order their internal and external worlds. His overarching question con- cerns the forces of cultural and political cohesion which held the wartime societies of Germany and Britain together during total war. But Reimann goes further. He sees the war itself as an expression and part of the predominant cultural norms in Germany and Britain. He analyses the relationship between private perceptions and interpre- tations at the front and on the home front and public communica- tions in both wartime societies. This history of relationships is one of the strong points of the work, which relativizes the traditional heuris- tic separation between public and private discourses, and between élite and everyday culture. The sources used are seven German and six British newspapers—unfortunately they are not systematically analysed—and about 3,000 letters written by twenty-eight First World War soldiers in both armies. The comparative approach this study takes is a further method- ological advantage. Although scholars regularly call for a systematic comparison, comparative research on the world wars—notwith- standing the many recent publications on the First World War—has not gone beyond a handful of monographs,16 and this certainly

16 In addition to Müller, Die Nation als Waffe und Vorstellung, and Raithel, Das ‘Wunder’ der inneren Einheit, cited above, cf. C. Jahr, Gewöhnliche Soldaten:

36 Historiography of the First World War applies to a comparative cultural history of the First World War. The character of the period as a turning-point, at the cultural level as well, is repeatedly stressed, but this assumption has not yet been empiri- cally tested in a European context. The reason for this may be con- nected with the numerous methodological and empirical difficulties which a comparison involves. A British–German comparison is made even more difficult because the social language in the two countries differs considerably.17 Without ignoring the differences between the subjects of his investigation, Reimann concentrates on the similarities. British and German society alike tended to deal with the experiences and bur- dens of total war with the assistance of well-known categories. The complex problems of industrialized warfare were translated into cat- egories drawn from nature and the realm of the individual. To see the war as an act of nature not only gave it a pseudo-scientific justifica- tion, but made any political resistance seem futile. Influenced by Jay Winter’s anti-modernist interpretation of the war, Reimann investi- gates in detail the value of traditional interpretative patterns drawn from, for example, metaphors from nature, religion, technology, and middle-class ideas of morality. The impact of these abstract construc- tions of meaning was often limited to the daily newspapers, and did not influence the everyday conceptual horizon of the letter-writing soldiers to any great extent. Yet speaking and thinking with the help of similar patterns of interpretation had different outcomes in the different cultural con- texts of Britain and Germany. Thus in both countries, the daily press and the army post were full of examples of the central role which the theme of ‘nerves’ played in the war. But collective assessments of

Desertion im deutschen und britischen Heer 1914–1918 (Göttingen, 1998); A. Hoover, God, Germany and Britain in the Great War: A Study in Clerical Nationalism (New York, 1989); J. Horne, Labour at War: France and Britain 1914–1918 (Oxford, 1991).

17 Cf. R. Koselleck, U. Spree, and W. Steinmetz, ‘Drei bürgerliche Welten? Zur vergleichenden Semantik der bürgerlichen Gesellschaft in Deutschland, England und Frankreich’, in H.-J. Puhle (ed.), Bürger in der Gesellschaft der Neuzeit: Wirtschaft, Politik, Kultur (Göttingen, 1991), pp. 14–58; and M. Geyer, ‘The Stigma of Violence: Nationalism and War in Twentieth-Century Ger- many’, German Studies Review, special edition (Spring 1992), pp. 75–110.

37 Review Articles traumatic experiences went in different directions. In Britain, where military service was not considered a social duty as it was in Germany, and where the British labour movement objected vehe- mently to the introduction of conscription in 1916, there was greater sensitivity to the psychological damage sustained by soldiers at the front than in Germany. Thus British society displayed a relatively greater tolerance for non-conformist social behaviour than German society. The author identifies the essential difference as the British ideal of honour and politeness. For example, the notion that the war should be conducted according to the ideal of fairness in sport pene- trated as far as the correspondence of ordinary British soldiers. Public and private avowals of sportsmanship and the civilized nature of British culture were contrasted sharply with a belligerent Germany’s lack of civilization. Occasionally, however, Reimann makes astonishing blunders when it comes to the interpretation of cultural significance and its context. His comments on the processing of the technical dimensions of a modern war of position are one example. What connects the pub- lic spread of the ‘Roland motif’ in Germany—that is, the Germans’ own view of their stoic resistance to the horrors of trench warfare— with the deployment of the first British tanks will probably always remain the author’s secret. The two phenomena are obviously not located at the same level of interpretation. To compare the cultural processing of modern warfare in Germany with technical military innovations in Britain must, therefore, be misleading.18 Yet fortu- nately, such arguments that miss the mark are the exception. The author’s demonstration that the image of the aeroplane as a new weapon revived traditional ideas which had failed in the trenches is more successful. The notion of enemy pilots fighting airborne duels fascinated both sides, and made it possible to confer individual meaning on the events of a war of matériel again.

18 Passages such as: ‘Nicht die innere Überwindung der Realitäten auf dem Schlachtfeld [d.i. das “Roland-Motiv”], sondern ihre pragmatische Modifika- tion machte den Grundgedanken der ersten Panzer aus’ (pp. 65 f.) (Not an inner overcoming of the realities of the battlefied [i.e. the ‘Roland motif’], but their pragmatic modification constituted the basic idea of the first tanks) are an ugly example of cultural history that does not observe its own limits.

38 Historiography of the First World War

Perhaps the most successful section of the book is chapter four, entitled ‘Visionen der Feindschaft’. Analysing images of the enemy, Reimann points to the high degree of overlap in the cases of wartime Germany and Britain. Hostility motivated and legitimized by nation- alism had an important function in both wartime societies in defining one’s own group and excluding the other. Here Reimann’s finding that, contrary to what is generally assumed in the research, there was a creeping ethnicization of the anti-German enemy image in Britain, is informative. In both countries, the war provided fertile ground for racist strategies of exclusion, with whose help hostility could be put on to a pseudo-scientific basis. Fears of ‘Asiatic degeneration’ and the Bolshevik threat served notice of hostility on a disastrous scale, and not only for German history in the twentieth century. In the context of the discourse of hostility, Reimann’s comparison between the daily press and soldiers’ letters is remarkable. Nationalist and racist patterns of argument played a surprisingly subordinate part in the soldiers’ letters. The relatively small role taken by hostility with a nationalist motive among active participants in the war did not sig- nify a lack of experience of the enemy. For many soldiers, it was only daily contact with the enemy that confirmed the foreignness and maliciousness of the enemy side, and the superiority of their own. In public, too, the function of hostility was anything but unam- biguous. In the discourse of domestic politics, images of the enemy often no longer meant what, superficially, they appeared to say. Sometimes the gap between symbol and meaning grew very wide indeed under the conditions imposed by a domestic political truce. As it was difficult to articulate social conflicts openly, political differ- ences were frequently expressed by drawing on widespread public images of the enemy. Thus even the image of the enemy was contro- versial, and different political camps concentrated on different aspects of the enemy image, or even on different enemies. Britain symbolized the Conservatives’ hatred of rapid social change; Russia stood for the Social Democrats’ and Liberals’ aversion to autocratic rule. However, occasionally Reimann’s thesis that the semantics of hos- tility had the task of smoothing out domestic social conflicts is refut- ed by his own evidence. It is not true that the liberal and socialist press in both countries took their places in a unified front by adopt- ing national conservative images of the enemy. Nor is it correct to

39 Review Articles assume that only in Germany were domestic political enemies defamed as an anti-national security risk. In fact, as Hew Strachan also shows, tensions dating from pre-war days were revived in both countries with the aid of a figure of speech which presented the war as a life or death struggle against an external enemy. In fact, by trans- ferring the characteristics of national enemies to domestic political enemies, these tensions were, if anything, increased. The struggle for political power carried out with the aid of competing enemy images thus provided a source of conflicts that could constantly be updated. With its assistance domestic political enemies could be excluded from the nation as traitors and enemies within one’s own ranks.19 Thus despite all this study’s good points, the limits of Reimann’s argument are obvious. The integrative impact of cultural interpreta- tions, which, it is claimed, contributed to social cohesion for four years under the conditions of total war, are demonstrated convinc- ingly only for the rhetoric of Heimat and family, but not for the func- tion of hostility. Above all, the relationship between semantic fields and social structures often remains unclear. A systematic analysis of patterns of cultural interpretations within the framework of particu- lar social and political constellations would probably have been more useful than the investigation of sample semantic fields selected at random. Instead of quantifying selected historical constellations, the author often points impressionistically to varying semantic tenden- cies, which, despite many illuminating insights, sometimes gives the impression of a certain arbitrariness. The tension between a discourse of belonging and foreignness is also the theme of Ulrich Sieg’s study of Jewish intellectuals in Germany during the First World War. Only a brief generation sepa- rates the First World War from the industrialized annihilation of the Jews in the Second World War. The historiography of the First World War therefore cannot avoid investigating the social role of the German Jews and the place of political anti-Semitism. How did the

19 On the dysfunctional dimension of nationalist enmity, cf. H. W. Smith, German Nationalism and Religious Conflict: Culture, Ideology, Politics 1870–1914 (Princeton, 1995); S. O. Müller, ‘Die umstrittene Gemeinschaft: Nationalis- mus als Konfliktphänomen’, in U. Jureit (ed.), Politische Kollektive: Die Kon- struktion nationaler, rassistischer und ethnischer Gemeinschaften (Münster, 2001), pp. 124–45.

40 Historiography of the First World War

Jewish élite in Germany see itself? What did their values and Jewishness mean to them? And most importantly, did the exceptional situation of the war promote anti-Semitic hostility of a new quality? This study is the first systematic analysis of German-Jewish relations in the First World War based on the discourse of Jewish intellectuals. In the introduction, Sieg lists the reasons for the successful assim- ilation of the Jews in Germany before 1914. On the eve of the war, political anti-Semitism was not especially popular in Germany. The continuing decline of the anti-Semitic splinter parties until the German general election of 1912 seemed to suggest that the Jews had largely been successfully integrated into society as a whole. Yet the excessive optimism of the Zionists and liberal Jews often obscured the unbroken strength of mechanisms of social exclusion in Ger- many. And for the radical right, the process of integration had already gone too far. Far-right political activists and newspapers vig- orously called for a biologically-based nationalism, which attempted to cement the political and social environment with the assistance of racist categories. At first, it seemed that the outbreak of war would strengthen the trend towards the assimilation of German Jews. Leading Jews saw the war as a chance to prove themselves good patriots and citizens. Although Sieg relativizes the impact of the war enthusiasm of Jewish intellectuals, the pressure on German Jews to demonstrate their loy- alty was extremely strong. The Jews shared the hope that a commit- ment to the nation at war would result in social equality and recog- nition with other minorities such as Social Democrats and Catholics. The criterion of national achievement promised to relativize the cri- terion of ethnicity. In Prussia, Jews could now be promoted to officer status. In 1915 alone, more Jewish men were naturalized in Germany than in the whole decade before the outbreak of war. Numerous Jewish economic experts—Walther Rathenau is only the best-known example—rose to leading positions in the organization of the war economy. The anti-Semitic press, which did not comply with the demand for national unity as part of the truce, faced being banned by the censor. The Jews’ references to the ‘nation’, and their willingness to risk life and property for the nation-state at war meant that open anti-Semites risked violating the rhetoric of unity. Particularly useful are the author’s reflections on how the German-Jewish élite saw themselves, and on their view of the world.

41 Review Articles

His finding about the extent to which nationalism and racism shaped the Jewish understanding of self in the First World War is especially informative. To think in these categories also meant that require- ments for belonging and not-belonging depended on the viewpoint of the observer, and often converged. After all, neither ‘Jewishness’ nor ‘Germanness’ could be unequivocally defined, as the internal Jewish dispute about Martin Buber’s positions demonstrated. Voluntaristic-liberal ideas of Jewishness confronted explicitly ethnic concepts of belonging. Sieg shows equally clearly how the strains of total war gave anti- Semitism new nourishment. As the economic, military, and political situation in Germany deteriorated dramatically, German Jews repeatedly attracted the hatred of those sections of the population who held them responsible for their distress. The caricature of the Jewish war profiteer was an updated version of the traditional anti- Semitic image of the Jewish usurer. One of the most striking turning- points in the history of anti-Semitism in pre-1933 Germany was the ‘Jewish census’. On 11 October 1916 the Prussian War Minister Adolf Wild von Hohenborn issued a decree stating that all military head- quarters were to draw up a list of Jews exempted from serving in the army. This represented nothing less than an unprecedented form of official discrimination against Jewish Germans. The matter was exac- erbated by the fact that the results of the survey were never officially published, and thus gave rise to the wildest rumours. Despite the jus- tified indignation of Jewish intellectuals, the author warns his reader against overestimating the impact of this measure. According to Sieg, the fact that anti-Semitism became increasingly socially acceptable among wide sections of the respectable bourgeoisie was more seri- ous. Yet Sieg does not, ultimately, provide any evidence that the new, biologically-based anti-Semitism spread significantly after the First World War. To be sure, those who had been anti-Semites before the war now found their world-image expressly confirmed. But the breadth of this phenomenon cannot be fully explored on the almost exclusive basis of debates among Jewish intellectuals. An investiga- tion of the ideas of non-Jews would have required a representative analysis of the daily press, parliamentary debates, or a selection of letters from the front. To overstate the case, the Jewish census was an ‘accident’ which tells us more about the traditional anti-Semitism of

42 Historiography of the First World War the Prussian military élites than about the emergence of a radical new anti-Semitism. For during the second half of the war in particular, it was not only Social Democrats and Liberals who opposed the exist- ing anti-Semitic resentments and arguments in German domestic politics, but, as a rule, also members of the German government. On the whole, however, Sieg’s methodologically innovative study systematically traces the history of the German Jews during the key phase of the First World War for the first time. A modern history of ideas is embedded in the political and social context of Germany at war, and the similarities and differences in the thinking of the Jewish élite and the ideas of the German educated bourgeoisie are brought out. What emerges is the contradictory diversity, and the constant dependence on the actor and the social context which determine the content of ‘Jewishness’ and ‘Germanness’. The partial ethnicization of the Jewish definition of self under the pressure for homogeneity exerted by the war demonstrates how changeable were the categories of ‘self’ and ‘other’, and how much they depended on the point of view of the observer. Jeffrey Verhey analyses the construction and the political scope of the ‘spirit of 1914’ and the myth of the Volksgemeinschaft in Germany. His point of departure is what is known as the ‘August experience’. The belief that on the outbreak of war in 1914 the majority of Ger- mans (and the people of the other states involved in the war) were seized by exuberant nationalist enthusiasm has long survived in pub- lic consciousness and in the historical research. Until well into the 1990s, the assumption of the irrational fanaticism of the masses was hardly examined. In the first part of his study, Verhey puts an end to this sort of myth-building on the part of the educated bourgeoisie, and with good reason. He achieves this on the basis of an astonishing- ly broad evaluation of the daily press. Daily newspapers offer one of the few opportunities to reconstruct the dispositions not only of the self-proclaimed leaders of opinion among the educated bourgeoisie, but also of the collective actors, the political parties, interest groups, and associations etc. in their full social breadth. The press landscape, which even under the conditions imposed by censorship managed to be astonishingly varied, allows the author to make detailed statements about the contradictory ideas and interests of the political camps. The findings of this study are convincing and sobering in equal measure. If the population is broken down by class, religion, sex,

43 Review Articles generation, region, and political orientation, little remains of any col- lective enthusiasm for the war. The Protestant, male, urban educated bourgeoisie was overrepresented by far in the jingoistic pronounce- ments of late July and early August 1914. This group, in particular, believed that it was experiencing the lifting of social barriers, as if in a giant Carneval, and a new unity among all Germans. The situation was quite different among the Catholic rural population, which, by all accounts, passively accepted all the proceedings surrounding the mobilization. All over Germany the organized labour movement held demonstrations against Germany entering the war; about 750,000 people took part in them. The workers’ press protested bit- terly that the ‘alcohol-fuelled patriotism’ of the often young partici- pants was equated with the attitude of the majority of the German people. Despite frequent excesses and public reactions of panic, in the critical summer days the majority of the German population remained calm but tense. The rapid growth in the need for informa- tion, fuelled by the political crisis, drove many people on to the streets, where special editions and rumours did the rounds. Verhey’s findings are accurate and backed up by an impressive depth of evidence, but it is a pity that it took almost ten years for his 1991 dissertation to be revised and published. In the meantime, what were new findings in his time have largely been confirmed and expanded by the booming First World War research of the 1990s.20 The first chapters of Verhey’s pioneering study of 1991, therefore, merely substantiate what is now already generally known. If we con- sider how little we know about the mood in Britain on the outbreak of war, for example, even an asymmetrical comparison with another European country would surely have benefited his project. More- over, a comparative perspective would have prevented the author from assuming that the spread of the myth of nationalist unity was a limited success in Germany because the country did not have a uni- form political culture and its society was deeply divided. Germany’s opponents in the war, who suffered numerous internal conflicts, did not have a unified political culture either. The social scope and duration of the ‘August experience’ may have been limited, but its consequences were not. The most informa- tive parts of Verhey’s study are devoted to the long-lasting repercus-

20 Cf. note 3.

44 Historiography of the First World War sions of the ‘spirit of 1914’ in the First World War, and up to 1945. The social utopia of a Volksgemeinschaft unifying all classes, religions, regions, and political camps during and as a result of the world war exerted a lasting fascination. From different nationalist perspectives, Social Democrats and Pan-Germans thought they had discovered a change in Germany’s wartime society that matched their ideals. Thus the chances of participation rose among those political camps and groups which declared themselves to be part of the German Volks- gemeinschaft in order to legitimize their specific interests and ideas. Against the background of the dreadful demands made by incipient total war, it was becoming ever more difficult for the state to ensure social cohesion by force. The ideal of the Schützengrabengemeinschaft (community of the trenches) had its origins in the political changes and the restructuring German society underwent as a result of switching the economy on to a wartime footing. Verhey plausibly demonstrates this reciprocal relationship. Immediately after the out- break of war, the government introduced a series of concrete meas- ures which, although mostly symbolic, did not fail to affect the polit- ical public. Social Democratic journals, such as Vorwärts, were now available at railway stations, and even in the armed forces. From the end of 1914, Social Democrats could enter the civil service if they took the oath to uphold the existing order; a number even became officers. Moreover, the Prussian Interior Ministry forced the ‘Reichsverband gegen die Sozialdemokratie’ to stop its work of denigration against Social Democracy, and it ensured that the anti-Catholic organizations kept the truce. The imagined effects of the utopia of unity were probably even more important. The ‘August experience’ induced its own reality by on the one hand unleashing fears of threat and panic reactions through a nationalistically distorted perception of the outside world, while on the other remaining interpretatively open to the most diverse community-creating ideas and hopes. Precisely in view of the critical upheavals of the pre-war and wartime periods, anonymous inter-personal relations and the barriers of class and religion seemed to dissolve in a new community full of promise. In short, belief in the nation promised everything to everybody. Verhey clearly presents the diversity and inconsistency of ideas of the German nation. For anyone with aspirations legitimately to represent its interests in pub- lic, reference to the general good of the Volk and the Nation was a

45 Review Articles powerful argument. The Kaiser’s government, the old and the new Right, as well as the Social Democrats and Catholics adopted this new style of politics. Yet the cult of community held out no prospect of a solution to the problems of German society in 1914. Nationalist utopias of unity evoked extravagant expectations which would necessarily be disap- pointed by a total war. In fact, in the long term, the upheavals of the world war exacerbated political and social tensions, and caused strong protests on the part of those who deplored the severe violation of the claim for equality made by the cult of community. However, even in the Weimar Republic, this did not undermine belief in the beneficial effects of the Volksgemeinschaft. Rather, the political parties of the Weimar coalition saw their alliance as a new version of the truce, and thus extended the style of politics and value horizons of wartime into the years of peace. Obviously the right wing continued to try to make political capital out of an inclusive claim to the ideol- ogy of the Volksgemeinschaft. During the election campaign of 1919, for example, the Deutschnationale Volkspartei (DNVP) adopted the slogan: ‘Vote for the DNVP. We are the “spirit of 1914” ‘(‘Wählt DNVP. Wir sind der “Geist von 1914” ‘) (p. 10). Above all, however, National Socialism profited from the ubiquitous talk of the Volksgemeinschaft. With the aid of well-known forms of communication and belief, it was able to achieve its aims more easily. Its reconstruction of contradictory nationalist ideas is not the only fascinating aspect of Verhey’s book. Methodologically, its greatest strength probably lies in its assessment of the relationship between the attributions of significance made by the actors and social condi- tions. For precisely this reason, however, Verhey’s antiquated criti- cism of ideology, which repeatedly reveals his mistrust of his own material and his own findings, is incomprehensible. Often the author does not seem to be quite aware of the fascination exerted by his sub- ject, as when he contrasts belief in the validity of the Volksgemeinschaft with the power of critical, rational thought.21 However necessary source criticism is, it is not sufficient explanation of the phenome- non’s dynamic to demonstrate that the nationalists had believed in a

21 ‘Faith was opposed to rationality, belief to critical thought.’ Verhey, Spirit of 1914, p. 11.

46 Historiography of the First World War

‘lie’.22 The level of ideas and imagination cannot be totally separated from that of reality. As all complex social communities are both ‘real’ and ‘imagined’, the ‘spirit of 1914’ created its own temporary and seductive reality because many actors—governing and governed alike—believed in it. The First World War is of special significance in the development of national hostility. Matthew Stibbe addresses the well-known phe- nomenon of German Anglophobia, whose political dissemination has not yet been systematically investigated. Stibbe is interested in the place of Anglophobia in domestic politics, particularly within the framework of the public debate between opposing political camps on the issue of war or peace. He demonstrates that the quality of hostil- ity and the type and scope of nationalistically motivated exclusion changed under the influence of total war. In both peace and war there is a general need legitimately to define who does and who does not belong to the nation, but during a total war, this becomes much more urgent. Against the background of a fundamental military threat, the existence of nation-states seemed to depend on establish- ing national boundaries and fighting the enemy. A far-reaching re- definition of the ‘other’ and the ‘own’ was only possible by reference to the nation, which enabled the absolute claim to interpretation and legitimacy called for by total war. Stibbe’s approach of seeing nations as the product of political boundary-drawing is fruitful. The essential characteristic of national- ist ideas is the manipulation of difference as a way of exercising power. If something specific is named, something else is excluded or devalued. Nationalism’s bipolar perception of the world operates by sharply separating inside and outside, and by ‘making up’ a connec- tion which reconstructs power relations. The way in which the world is perceived with the help of nationalism is the result of a postulated difference, but national cohesion also requires exclusion. Thus a

22 Cf. Benedict Anderson’s valid criticism of Ernest Gellner, Nations and Nationalism (Oxford, 1983), in Anderson, Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism (London, 1983), and more recently J. Echternkamp and S. O. Müller, ‘Perspektiven einer politik- und kul- turgeschichtlichen Nationalismusforschung’, in eid. (eds.), Die Politik der Nation: Deutscher Nationalismus in Krieg und Krisen 1760–1960 (Munich, 2002), pp. 1–24.

47 Review Articles devaluation of the foreign is inherent in nationalism from the start. The way in which borders are drawn to define nations varies depending on actors, place, and time, demonstrating that the nation and its enemies are not defined once and for all, but constantly rene- gotiated in an ongoing political process. Thus the investigation of enmity is a central element in the research both on the First World War and on nationalism.23 Although, as Stibbe emphasizes, Germany did not exactly lack enemies abroad, the self-proclaimed leaders of opinion from the edu- cated middle classes seemed to have made up their minds from the start that Germany’s main enemy was Britain. Precisely because the Germans had seen the British as closest to them before the outbreak of war, the disappointed love–hate relationship of well-known pro- fessors and journalists now turned into pure hatred of Britain. Prominent scholars admitted in public that they felt true hatred not of France or Russia, but only of Britain. The authors of the ‘ideas of 1914’, in particular, elevated the German–British antagonism into a matter of principle. As they could hardly deny British achievements in the field of civilization, they explained the causes of war in terms of allegedly ‘natural’ British national characteristics. To draw on the semantics of betrayal was a direct consequence of this nationalistic mechanism. The constant refrain of ‘perfidious Albion’ blurred the border between the familiar, something which had formerly belonged, and something which had now become foreign and hos- tile. Most people did not go as far as the political economist Werner Sombart, who reduced the war between Britain and Germany to a struggle between the archetypes of the ‘trader’ and the ‘hero’. Yet the topos of a fundamental conflict went right through the commentary of the conservative press. Stibbe vividly portrays the spread of Anglophobia through German literature and everyday culture. The American ambassador in Germany, James W. Gerard, for example, was dismayed by the everyday use of the phrase: ‘God punish Britain!’ (‘Gott strafe England!’). At the front and at home, this phrase became popular as

23 Cf. only M. Jeismann, Das Vaterland der Feinde: Studien zum nationalen Feindbegriff und Selbstverständnis in Deutschland und Frankreich 1792–1918 (Stuttgart, 1992); on Britain, see L. Colley, Britons: Forging the Nation 1707–1837 (New Haven, 1992); Panayi, The Enemy in Our Midst.

48 Historiography of the First World War a greeting, to which the correct response was: ‘May he punish it!’ (‘Er strafe es!’). This was the mood in which Ernst Lissauer wrote his infa- mous ‘Hassgesang gegen England’, by far the most widely dissemi- nated poem of the First World War. Its depiction of German fear of the ‘racial’ threat is especially informative. Immediately after the out- break of the war, German public opinion was outraged by the fact that Germany’s enemies had deployed non-white troops from the colonies in the theatres of war. German professors and editors accused the British in particular of betraying European culture and the ‘white race’ in this way. The discourse about black colonial troops was a striking indication of the spread of a qualitatively new form of exclusion in the Germany of the First World War. The enemy was seen as ‘racially inferior’ not only by the radical right wing and the conservatives, but also by much of the Catholic and liberal camp. Thus Stibbe can expose the long-term traditions of National Socialist ideology. This racist perspective spread under the conditions of the First World War, and was constantly refreshed as a result of the German defeat of 1918. It was thus able to feed indirectly into the world view of the Nazi state. Anglophobia as a leitmotiv of public debates is undisputed, but Russia provided powerful competition as an enemy image.24 Sections of the middle classes and the left liberals blamed Russia for the war, and considered it Germany’s most dangerous enemy because it sym- bolized their abhorrence of autocratic rule. Thus the conservative camp tried to instrumentalize Anglophobia for their own ends with- in the framework of major political debates about war aims and the U-boat war. In Munich, for example, a ‘Volksausschuss für die rasche Niederkämpfung Englands’ (Popular Committee for the Rapid Defeat of Britain), dominated by the new Right, was set up in 1916. It had more than 20,000 members, including state and national parlia- mentary deputies, businessmen, minor civil servants, and the self- employed. Stibbe makes clear the extent to which the conservative camp cleverly used Anglophobia as an instrument against their foes at home, and especially against the government and the Chancellor of Germany, Bethmann Hollweg. However, Stibbe’s work is marred by a number of flaws. He pro- vides several questionable interpretations of, for instance, the role of

24 Müller, Die Nation als Waffe und Vorstellung.

49 Review Articles the public and the creation of cultural constructions (pp. 16 f., 206 f., and 209). More serious is the criticism that he fails to establish the link between political discourse and the political actions of the actors in the framework of the debates investigated. The result is that for long stretches he provides no more than a conventional history of the war aims discussion, occasionally making points related to Anglo- phobia. Similarly, the large proportion of well-known quotations from professors, the radical right, and the German government reproduced here once again as evidence is regrettable. Different sources and a more innovative approach are required before state- ments can be risked about continuity and change in German nation- alism from 1914 to 1941 as reflected in the discourse on enmity. Precisely this trick of demonstrating the continuities and breaks in German nationalism, and the impact on action of collective images of the enemy and cultural attributions of significance from the First to the Second World War is achieved by John Horne and Alan Kramer in their masterly book. It deals with a long-ignored subject, the atroc- ities committed by German troops against Belgian and French civil- ians in 1914, and political and cultural responses to them after the First World War. The German public during the war, and the major- ity of international observers after it, had incorrectly dismissed reports about excesses committed by the German army as Allied propaganda. The authors describe the German soldiers’ conduct of war in minute detail, while also stressing the significance of collec- tive ideas and interpretations which structured both the behaviour of the perpetrators and the interpretation of the European publics. To begin with, Horne and Kramer reconstruct the extent of the destructive behaviour of many German soldiers during the opening phase of the war on the Western front. This becomes clear in the dis- cussion of the infamous example of the razing of Louvain, a univer- sity town not far from Brussels. The soldiers, placed under excessive strain by danger and a lack of clarity, panicked. They killed 248 civil- ians and pillaged the town. The German fighting forces mistakenly felt threatened by the townspeople, although they nowhere encoun- tered any organized resistance on the part of the citizens. Rather, their own losses while advancing on the town were the result of friendly fire which they had brought on themselves. Yet the soldiers sincerely believed that they were being threatened by Belgian francs- tireurs. Horne and Kramer estimate that in the first months of the war

50 Historiography of the First World War the German soldiers’ blurring of the distinction between combatants and non-combatants cost 6,427 civilians their lives in Belgium and northern France. What needs to be explained is why large sections of the German army assumed that the civilian population posed a serious threat. Horne and Kramer demonstrate the power of collective mispercep- tions and nationalist images of the enemy among the fighting forces. Drawing on traditions going back to 1870–1 and on Francophobe and anti-Catholic stereotypes, German soldiers created their own image of the underhanded, bloodthirsty franc-tireur as a distorted mirror image of the ‘decent’ German fighter. Under the impact of this cul- tural-ideological shift, innocent Belgian passers-by were trans- formed, for many German soldiers, into treacherous monsters, as numerous letters from the front testify. Civilians were seen as the most dangerous of all enemies because they allegedly operated unrecognizably. This reversal of the perpetrator–victim relationship meant three things. First, those responsible for the disorderly, hostile environment were identified, which reduced the complexity of the situation. Secondly, the soldiers thus placed themselves under an obligation to act, and, thirdly, legitimized the extraordinary use of force, with devastating consequences for the local population. The collective fears of the troops were exacerbated by the trauma of their new experience of war, especially as a result of the Schlieffen Plan which, in the first few weeks of the war, sent ever more badly sup- plied men into huge areas to face uncertain situations. There are also indications that the German army leadership and officer corps delib- erately exploited the myth of the franc-tireur. The infamous ‘criminal orders’ issued by the leaders of the Wehrmacht in 1941 are prefigured in the rigid regulations issued by the army of the German Kaiserreich concerning the treatment of civilians presumed to be refractory. In short, the dynamic of the situation was the result both of ordinary soldiers and officers on the General Staff transferring nationalist dis- positions to the alleged enemies of the Fatherland, and of the deteri- orating operational conditions faced by the German army. After reconstructing the violent excesses, the authors turn to the political and cultural reactions to and re-interpretations of the crimes. The press played an important role as a multiplier and a catalyst. Allied journalists and politicians targeted reports of maimings and killings and used them for propaganda purposes. The distorted

51 Review Articles image of German soldiers was so successful because, unlike most propaganda, it was built on facts. At the same time the Allies created a myth whose polarized language placed the Germans outside the sphere of Western civilization. Their own norms of civilization and freedom from force were contrasted with the dehumanized image of the German barbarian and the Hun. The classification of events by the sex of the victims was of special significance. Killing women and children destroyed not only families, but also traditional world images. The threat to the boundary between the political and the pri- vate largely explains the emotional charge of the debates. After 1918, legal attempts to deal with the crimes failed because the former adversaries judged the actions so differently. Both sides stubbornly stuck to their wartime convictions and ideas. Cultural demobilization was as much of a failure as political demobilization. Memories of the atrocities of 1914 were as controversial as the events themselves. During the inter-war period, doubts about the truth of many war crimes were gradually raised in public among the Allies, and this long prevented the war of extermination and the Holocaust from being seen for what they were in the Second World War. And from 1941 the Wehrmacht, with explicit reference to the distorted experiences of the First World War, murdered presumed partisans in eastern Europe on a mass scale.25 On the whole, Horne and Kramer open up far-reaching empirical and methodological perspectives. This applies to the scope of politi- cal ideas and legal disputes as well as to contradictory interpretations and collective mentalities. Above all, they explore the space between situative and mental factors. By seeing the anxieties and enemy images of the German soldiers as dependent on wartime conditions, the authors can explain the deadly dynamic of the soldiers’ behav- iour towards the civilian population. Thus it becomes explicable why the attitudes of ‘ordinary men’ promoted the blurring of the distinc- tion between combatants and civilians. Rarely has the impact on

25 On the cultural and political burden which the First World War repre- sented for German concepts of Eastern Europe cf. V. G. Liulevicius, War Land on the Eastern Front: Culture, National Identity, and German Occupation in World War I (Cambridge, 2000); and on the problem of how, under certain circum- stances ‘ordinary men’ could turn into murders, see C. Browning, Ordinary Men: Reserve Police Battalion 101 and the Final Solution in Poland (New York, 1992).

52 Historiography of the First World War action of language and ideas, which demonstrably limited the per- ceptions and the scope for action of individuals, been so impressive- ly described for the period of the First World War. The crimes of the Wehrmacht now have a prehistory. There has never been a shortage of literature on the First World War. The changes in interpretations and fields of research mirror an interest in the First World War that itself changed constantly through- out the twentieth century. However, no history of these numerous interpretations and debates has yet been written.26 At least as far as the social history research on the First World War which was trig- gered by the Fischer controversy and the cultural history of the last fifteen years are concerned, one is tempted to use the generally rather over-used term paradigm shift. And every generation of historians continues to write its own history of the Great War, based on its own images and premisses. The variety of historical and political debates suggests that the First World War represented a turning point in two ways. First, the historiographical debates about the historical location of the First World War have a considerable innovative potential for research. In future, historians will increasingly have to face the methodological challenge of dealing with particular social areas within the frame- work created by the war. The history of ‘total war’ demands a multi- causal approach to domestic politics, and a universal historical approach to foreign policy. Secondly, and most importantly, the First World War marks the beginning not only of a new period of warfare, but also of a new form of politics. The First World War is fascinating because old and new lines of development mingle in it. Thus the Great War was ‘total’ neither at operational, economic, nor at social level. By comparison with the Second World War, the differences are obvious. What was ‘total’ was the new dimension of hostility moti-

26 Research reports on recent literature on the First World War are provided by W. Mommsen, Der Große Krieg und die Historiker: Neue Wege der Geschichts- schreibung über den Ersten Weltkrieg (Essen, 2002); and M. Epkenhans, ‘Neue Forschungen zur Geschichte des Ersten Weltkriegs’, Archiv für Sozialge- schichte, 38 (1998), 458–87. On the English-language literature cf. J. M. Winter, ‘Recent Trends in the Historiography of Britain and the First World War’, in H. Berghoff (ed.), Change and Inertia: Britain under the Impact of the Great War (Bodenheim, 1998), 87–97.

53 Review Articles vated by nationalism, and the practices of industrial warfare applied to annihilating human beings. The rejection of legitimate political and cultural differences combined with a collective willingness to use physical force as the legacy of the war experience formed an essential condition for the catastrophes of the ‘short twentieth century’.

SVEN OLIVER MÜLLER is Assistant Professor of History at the University of Bielefeld. He is the author of Die Nation als Waffe und Vorstellung: Nationalismus in Deutschland und Großbritannien im Ersten Weltkrieg (Göttingen, 2002) and co-editor, with J. Echternkamp, of Die Politik der Nation: Deutscher Nationalismus in Krieg und Krisen 1760–1960 (Munich, 2002). He is currently working on musical cul- ture in Berlin and London in the nineteenth century.

54 CARL SCHMITT: RELEVANCE AND AMBIVALENCE*

by Dirk Blasius

RÜDIGER VOIGT (ed.), Mythos Staat: Carl Schmitts Staatsverständnis, Staatsverständnisse, 2 (Baden-Baden: Nomos Verlagsgesellschaft, 2001), 267 pp. ISBN 3 7890 7061 0. EUR 50.00 JEFFREY SEITZER, Comparative History and Legal Theory: Carl Schmitt in the First German Democracy, Contributions in Political Science, 392; Global Perspectives in History and Politics (Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 2001), xx + 165 pp. ISBN 0 313 30792 X. $55.00 GABRIEL SEIBERTH, Anwalt des Reiches: Carl Schmitt und der Prozess ‘Preußen contra Reich’ vor dem Staatsgerichtshof, Zeitgeschichtliche For- schungen, 12 (Berlin: Dunker & Humblot, 2001), 318 pp. ISBN 3 428 10444 7. EUR 34.00

The distinction between friend and foe is the core of the political, wrote Carl Schmitt (1888–1985) at the end of the Weimar Republic. After the end of the Nazi dictatorship, Schmitt had more foes than friends. He was labelled as the servant of a power that had unleashed a murderous world war. Today, the circle of those who revere Schmitt as one of the most important scholars of the twentieth centu- ry is constantly growing. While they do not deny Schmitt’s political ambition in seeking and exercising influence during the Third Reich, they concentrate on Schmitt as a highly cultured scholar of constitu- tional law. They see him as a man who penetrated the secrets of European constitutional and international law more deeply than oth- ers, and grasped with great clarity the rules governing historical processes. On the whole, it would be true to say that judgements of Carl Schmitt are being revised and corrected. Yet the historical role always casts a shadow over the man and detracts from his intellectu- al standing. Schmitt is relevant, but he remains ambivalent. Mythos Staat is the title of an edited volume comprising seven essays on Carl Schmitt’s understanding of the state. Although Schmitt incisively defined the concept of the political in his own * Trans. by Angela Davies, GHIL.

55 Review Articles style, no clear concept of the state can be identified in his widely ranging work, which goes far beyond the bounds of jurisprudence. As a political thinker, Schmitt was thoroughly conversant with the classics in his field, and this was the source of his creativity. He was far more highly educated than most jurists of his time. The contributions to Mythos Staat demonstrate the extent to which he tried to express his own positions, even highly problematic ones, within the grand tradition of European thinking on the state (Günter Meuter; Henrique Ricardo Otten). Although his concept of the state stood ‘on the shoulders of the classics’ (Rüdiger Voigt), his ‘under- standing of the state’ was rooted in the destructive tendencies of his own age (Mathias Eichhorn). According to Rudolf Speth the ‘myth of the state in Carl Schmitt’ relates to the ‘state’s loss of significance’ in the modern period. In his writings, Schmitt elevates and idealizes the state as a uniform and sovereign centre of decision-making. Yet the point of his heavily conceptual narrative of the beginning and end of the modern state is that Schmitt was pursuing an ‘emotional impact’. He renewed the myth of the state in the ‘specific situation of the Weimar Republic, in which different groups unleashed a civil war in which the state and the social order were at stake. In this situation Carl Schmitt evokes the origin of state order in the modern period. What Carl Schmitt sees as the loss of history is to return in the pres- ent: the sovereign right of the state to declare a state of emergency’ (p. 123). By taking this position, Schmitt strengthened the conserva- tive forces in the ‘struggle for Weimar’. Ulrich K. Preuß, too, asks about Schmitt’s role as a jurist ‘at times of political turmoil’. It is important, Preuß suggests, to be clear about ‘the intellectual field in which he developed his ideas’. Only then can we broach the question of whether there was ‘an internal connection between his ideas and the inhumanity of the Nazi regime’ (pp. 142–3). Preuß argues that Schmitt’s biography and work should not be superficially compared. He pursues the issues of whether Schmitt’s thinking is significant even without its negative relation- ship with the failure of the Weimar Republic and the disaster of the Third Reich, and whether it is part of the ‘intellectual heritage of our age’. ‘Indeed, it is worth studying Carl Schmitt because he can con- tribute to elucidating, as well as unsettling, the foundations of the lib- eral constitutional state’ (p. 144). For Preuß it is unsettling that Schmitt’s concept of the political denies the essence of the political.

56 Carl Schmitt

His theory, suggests Preuss, did not bind or tame the political ener- gies of a divided society which, by the end of the Weimar Republic, was on the verge of a civil war. Schmitt’s understanding of politics, upon which his understanding of the state is built, practically liber- ated these energies with all their destructive potential. One of the most interesting contributions in this volume traces the convoluted paths of the reception of Schmitt in the USA (Emanuel Richter). For a long time, both the work and the person were exclud- ed from the English-language discourse. Carl Schmitt was seen as symbolizing negative German traditions. But since the 1980s, increas- ing attention has been paid to Schmitt in the USA. Richter attributes the appropriation and rejection of Schmitt’s work to different gener- ational experiences. Many Jewish and oppositional intellectuals, who were contemporaries or even acquaintances and students of Schmitt’s, had to leave Germany in the 1930s and emigrated to the USA. They saw Schmitt as an opportunist, the grave-digger of liber- alism, and the legal herald of National Socialism and its ideology. They did not forget what Schmitt had written about German intel- lectuals in the Nazi newspaper Westdeutscher Beobachter on 31 May 1933 : ‘Today, hundreds of German intellectuals live abroad and incite others to make war on the German people. They have never been part of the German people. Nor of the German spirit. Even if they belonged to German academies or universities, this did not form the basis of any affinity of type or nature. Is there any such thing as an intellect that can be separated from and independent of all national characteristics?’ Using the example of Otto Kirchheimer, Richter shows how the ‘distancing of the emigrants’ influenced the image of Schmitt in the USA for many decades. Schmitt was not only hardly noticed, he was also undesirable. George Schwab’s early attempt to create a reputa- tion for Schmitt in the USA with his dissertation on ‘The Challenge of the Exception: An Introduction to the Political Ideas of Carl Schmitt between 1921 and 1936’ (1962) failed. The work was not published until 1989 (by Greenwood Press). And John W. Bendersky’s political biography, Carl Schmitt: Theorist for the Reich (1983) still encountered hostility: ‘The harsh and generally accurate assessment of Schmitt by an earlier generation of scholars seems to have been forgotten’ (p. 229). Interest in Schmitt’s work in the USA did not revive until after his death. Translations of his most important works into English were

57 Review Articles another factor in this development. George Schwab started the ball rolling with his translation of Der Begriff des Politischen (1933), which was published in 1976 as The Concept of the Political. In 1985, Ellen Kennedy translated Die geistesgeschichtliche Lage des heutigen Parla- mentarismus (1923) as The Crisis of Parliamentary Democracy. And in 1996 Greenwood Press’s series ‘Contributions in Political Science— Global Perspectives in History and Politics’, edited by George Schwab, published Roman Catholicism and Political Form (Schmitt’s original publication 1923) in Gary Ulmen’s translation, and The Lev- iathan in the State Theory of Thomas Hobbes: Meaning and Failure of a Po- litical Symbol (Schmitt’s original publication 1938), translated by George Schwab and Erna Hilfstein. Why was Schmitt able posthumously to tread the boards of American political science as an author rich in ideas? Richter points to the role played by the journal, Telos. A Quarterly of Critical Thought, in the reception of Carl Schmitt, both in catching up and maintaining the momentum. Drawing on Schmitt, it openly advocated a ‘realistic conservatism’. Liberalism, with its political and anthropological illu- sions, it claimed, had failed. Liberals had robbed American society of the power of renewal, and had done serious damage to US and world politics. The ostentatious reference to Schmitt was a method of polar- ization. The aim was to weaken the liberal camp, and to replace polit- ical correctness with ‘pure power-political realism’ (p. 235). Richter concludes that despite all attempts to promote the reception of Carl Schmitt, he is still seen, in the discourse of American political theory, as the ‘false prophet’ (p. 261). After the attacks of 9/11, of course, one could gain the impression that Schmitt had become the prophet of American politics. The study by Jeffrey Seitzer under review here also appeared in the series ‘Global Perspectives in History and Politics’, edited by George Schwab. However, contrary to the ambitions expressed in the series title, it conveys rather modest insights into the work of Carl Schmitt. The big topic of ‘Carl Schmitt in the First German Democ- racy’ is treated with reference to two undoubtedly very important publications by Schmitt, Verfassungslehre (Constitutional Theory) of 1928, and Hüter der Verfassung (Guardian of the Constitution) of 1931. Seitzer asks what role historical arguments played in Schmitt’s attempt to solve the crisis of the Weimar state by strengthening the executive. How, in his writings on constitutional law, does Schmitt

58 Carl Schmitt justify his advocacy that government policy should be dependent on the Reich president, but not the Reichstag? Why did he defend the Reich president as a guardian of the constitution and a political ruler? Seitzer convincingly presents the connection between ‘Com- parative History and Legal Theory’. Carl Schmitt thought in histori- cal categories, and in terms of long historical periods. Above all, however, he drew on the German Kaiserreich, defeated and destroyed in the First World War, as the background against which to diagnose the crisis of the Weimar state. Seitzer shows how Schmitt made history available for the political positions which he adopted. Schmitt was not interested in historical reconstructions. In Verfas- sungslehre and the pamphlet Hüter der Verfassung, Schmitt did not see himself as a historian of the nineteenth century. He directed his ‘spe- cial gaze’ at nineteenth-century constitutionalism (chapter 1), the sys- tem of local self-government (chapter 2), and the role of the courts in the institutional dialogue and the solution of social conflicts (chapters 3 and 4). Schmitt used ‘comparative history to highlight particular problems and to elaborate his understanding of the necessary insti- tutional solutions to these difficulties’ (p. xvi). In Schmitt’s eyes, the state had acted autonomously in the nine- teenth century. Society did not have the right to decide political ques- tions. ‘Local selfgovernment in the 19th century, Schmitt argued, was grounded in the state/society distinction, both substantively and institutionally. Local governments could manage their own affairs without too much state interference, as long as they restricted them- selves to local, “nonpolitical”, matters’ (p. 63). Seitzer demonstrates ‘the limitations of Schmitt’s approach’. The structure of the nine- teenth-century German state was much more similar to that of the Weimar Republic than Schmitt was prepared to admit. From com- parative history he drew only the material for his legal theory. In Seitzer’s view, Schmitt did not recognize ‘the importance of decen- tralization’ for the political stability of the first German democracy. His arguments ‘for presidential authority’ were historically incorrect. Seitzer lists Schmitt’s errors, but he does not wonder about the motives of a man who knew too much to draw the wrong conclu- sions from the past in a thoughtless way. As a theoretician Carl Schmitt anchored his criticisms of the first German democracy in the field of history. He did this with spirit, and without many scholarly scruples. By the end of the Weimar Republic,

59 Review Articles the scholar deploying historical arguments had turned into an indi- vidual who was acting politically. Schmitt’s commitment in the last year of the Weimar Republic, the turning point of 1932, cannot be separated from the axiom of his thinking in constitutional law: the distinction between friend and foe. Who did Carl Schmitt see as his enemy? Where did he seek his friends? Much research has been done on Schmitt’s position during the Third Reich. His role as the Kronjurist of the Führer state seemed to deny his own intellectual biography. Is there any evidence of Schmitt’s affinity with the Hitler movement before the Nazi seizure of power in 1933, or did he, like so many among the pre-Nazi élite, join in the chorus of approval only after 1933? Gabriel Seiberth, a young political scientist, set himself the ambitious task in his Berlin dissertation of drawing a picture of Schmitt which differs substan- tially from that of the opportunist who had early predicted the suc- cess of National Socialism. In 1932, Seiberth points out, there was nothing to suggest that one year later Schmitt would be the most elo- quent and influential jurist in the Nazi state. Until the last days of Weimar, Schmitt had been an advocate of the law, and was by no means a prophet of the Third Reich. Seiberth’s dissertation is carried by the impetus of its main argu- ment. With youthful vigour, he simply puts to one side all the insights concerning the end of the Weimar Republic that historians have accumulated over decades. As a focus, Seiberth chooses Schmitt’s role in the case Prussia v. Reich before the Supreme Court in Leipzig. Carl Schmitt was the most prominent of the lawyers defend- ing the Reich government’s actions against the Prussian government in what is known as the Preußenschlag, the Prussian coup. On 20 July 1932 the Reich Chancellor, Franz von Papen, had removed Prussia’s Social Democratic government and installed himself as Reichskom- missar. Real power over the Prussian bureaucracy and police, that is, the entire executive, was in the hands of the Reich from July 1932, and remained there after the legal judgment of October 1932. Seiberth tells the story of the Preußenschlag from Carl Schmitt’s perspective, and believes he can rectify previous historical assess- ments in two respects. First, he argues, the deposition of the Prussian government was a pre-emptive strike against the Nazi seizure of power in Prussia, and secondly, he claims that, as legal adviser to the presidential governments of Papen and Schleicher, Carl Schmitt

60 Carl Schmitt played a crucial role in the attempts made after 20 July 1932 to pre- vent Hitler from becoming Chancellor. The starting point of Seiberth’s thesis is the ‘argument . . . that the intervention by the Reich on 20 July was by no means paving the way for the Third Reich by eliminating the last Prussian bastion, but that, on the contrary, the Reich government wanted to prevent the National Socialist Party from securing the Prussian means of power’ (p. 37). He believes that this is more or less ‘the predominant view’ now, but essentially cites only works by Wolfram Pyta, his own co-author in Die Staatskrise der Weimarer Republik im Spiegel des Tagebuchs von Carl Schmitt (1999). Historians such as Hans Mommsen, Gerhard Schulz, Karl Dietrich Bracher, and Martin Broszat, who see the Preußenschlag as the crucial turning point in the transition from democracy to dictatorship, all receive bad marks. They are given the same label as the early critics of Carl Schmitt: ‘post-war interpreters.’ Seiberth’s study is divided into four main chapters. First, the his- torical context of the intervention of 20 July 1932 is described, then Schmitt’s appointment to the position of the Reich’s legal representa- tive in the trial is presented. The case before the Supreme Court is discussed in the greatest detail before Schmitt’s participation in the Schleicher cabinet’s emergency planning is interpreted as the logical consequence of his anti-National Socialist attitude, disguised only for tactical reasons to do with the trial. It cannot be denied that the author of this thesis is diligent, but diligence alone does not win any prizes. It is methodologically unsound to set out an argument at the beginning, and to ignore anything which might contradict the antic- ipated ‘outcome’ (pp. 260–3). On the basis of previous research on the Preußenschlag,1 the relevant volumes of Akten der Reichskanzlei (the cabinets of Papen and Schleicher), and the most recent monograph on the case of Carl Schmitt,2 Sieberth provides a detailed account of the Preußenschlag and the trial. It is a pity that the study lacks a bibli- ography of sources. 1 E.g., Jürgen Bay, Der Preußenkonflikt 1932/33: Ein Kapitel aus der Verfassungs- geschichte der Weimarer Republik (Erlangen, 1965); Henning Grund, ‘Preußen- schlag’ und Staatsgerichthof im Jahre 1932 (Baden-Baden, 1976); and Ludwig Biewer, Der Preußenschlag vom 20. Juli 1932: Ursachen, Ergebnisse, Folgen und Wertung’, Blätter für deutsche Landesgeschichte, 119 (1983), pp. 159–72. 2 Andreas Koenen, Der Fall Carl Schmitt: Sein Aufstieg zum ‘Kronjuristen des Dritten Reiches’ (Darmstadt, 1995).

61 Review Articles

Perhaps it was the feeling of elation at having stumbled across a goldmine in the records which led to this error of craftsmanship. Seiberth believes that he has found a ‘first-class source for constitu- tional history’ in the diaries in which Carl Schmitt recorded his moods and activities during the Nazi seizure of power. The short- hand notes are preserved in Schmitt’s papers in the main state archive in Düsseldorf. On 25 January 1933, five days before Hitler was named Chancellor of the Reich, Schmitt wrote in his diary: ‘sad, depressed. 20 July is over’ (p. 16). Seiberth chooses this passage as the starting point for his wide-ranging reinterpretation of the Preußen- schlag and Schmitt’s position in this process. There is no further dis- cussion of the diary as a type of source. Thus the explanation for Schmitt’s behaviour after 1933 is not very satisfying: he had to hide his early opposition to National Socialism and provide ‘evidence of continuity’. Schmitt himself saw the problem of continuity in a less artificial way. In the Westdeutscher Beobachter of 23 July 1933 he wrote a retrospective of 20 July 1932. In the Preußenschlag, he said, the German military and administrative state of the nineteenth century had once again flexed its muscles. It had ‘put an end to the Berlin cor- ruption of a liberal-democratic party state . . . But without the back- ground of the powerful National Socialist movement, this coup would not have succeeded, and without, let alone against, this move- ment, the German state could no longer be held.’ A lawyer enters a plea before a court, and that is what Carl Schmitt did before the Supreme Court in Leipzig. A contemporary short-hand record of the whole procedure exists (Preußen contra Reich vor dem Staatsgerichtshof, Berlin, 1933). It contains the plea and coun- terplea. Seiberth’s book contains almost nothing about the arguments of Schmitt’s opponents in the case, and very little about Schmitt’s own statements (pp. 172–3). These, however, are of the greatest inter- est for the issue of continuity in his thinking and actions. Using Schmitt’s diaries as his main source, Seiberth demonstrates convincingly that ‘from the beginning of 1932’, Schmitt was ‘regular- ly updated on the internal workings of the government’ (p. 86) by his intermediaries Eugen Ott and Erich Marcks junior, son of the histori- an Erich Marks. Schmitt provided the Papen and Schleicher govern- ments with blueprints for the imposition of a state of emergency, concerning the constitutional problem of how the Reichstag was to be passed over without violating the Weimar Constitution. Schmitt was

62 Carl Schmitt undoubtedly closer to the ‘crisis manager’ Schleicher than to his predecessor Papen, whose aim was to return to the constitution of the Kaiserreich. Yet can one really speak of a ‘clear distinction between the goals of Papen and Schleicher’ if one takes Schleicher’s part in Papen’s chancellorship into account? Looking at Schleicher’s chan- cellorship from December 1932, one cannot speak of a strictly anti- National Socialist policy. Despite the common front, Hitler remained a frequently named and constantly considered factor in Schleicher’s risky bid for power. In January 1933 Schleicher tried to circumvent the constitution and dissolve the Reichstag. No firm date was to be set for new elections. This plan was foiled by Reich President Hindenburg. For this time, there is hardly any evidence that Schmitt influenced the actions of the government. He obviously did not want to exert any influence. His papers were filed with the documents of the Reich chancellory and were politically ignored. In a situation in which the existence of the Weimar Republic was under threat, Schleicher provided no real alternative to Hitler. He had co-operated too long in undermining the democratic consensus. In this sense, Carl Schmitt really was ‘Schleicher’s man’. Carl Schmitt’s œuvre cannot be reduced to his personal failings. Schmitt was a scholar whose thinking and ideas went beyond the trends of his time, the age of the two world wars. Only if we distin- guish between historically accurate analyses and historically fateful appeals can we experience the diagnostic-critical power of his think- ing.

DIRK BLASIUS is Professor of Modern Economic and Social History at the University of Essen. He is the author of Carl Schmitt: Preußischer Staatsrat in Hitlers Reich (2001), and is at present working on a book on politics and civil war in the late Weimar Republic.

63 IDEAS, CONTEXTS, AND THE PURSUIT OF GENOCIDE

by Mark Roseman

PETER LONGERICH, The Unwritten Order: Hitler’s Role in the Final Solution (Stroud: Tempus Publishing, 2001), 160 pp. ISBN 0 7524 1977 3. £17.00 US $21.99 IRMTRUD WOJAK, Eichmanns Memoiren: Ein kritischer Essay, Wis- senschaftliche Reihe des Fritz Bauer Instituts, Sonderband (Frankfurt am Main: Campus, 2001), 279 pp. ISBN 3 593 36381 X. EUR 25.50 MICHAEL WILDT, Generation des Unbedingten: Das Führungskorps des Reichsicherheitshauptamtes (Hamburg: Hamburger Edition, 2002), 964 pp. ISBN 3 930908 75 1. EUR 35.00 CHRISTIAN GERLACH and GÖTZ ALY, Das letzte Kapitel: Realpoli- tik, Ideologie und der Mord an den ungarischen Juden 1944/45 (Stuttgart: Deutsche Verlags-Anstalt, 2002), 481 pp. ISBN 3 421 05505 X. EUR 35.00

For a long time, debate about the Holocaust’s origins was dominated by the ‘intentionalists’ and the ‘functionalists’. According to the clas- sic intentionalist view, the decision-making process leading to Auschwitz was single-minded and single-handed. Hitler, with a firm grip on power, was hell-bent on murder. The descent into genocide occurred because the master of Germany progressively implemented his plan. By contrast, the ‘functionalists’ believed that Hitler merely supplied the rhetoric. Nazi Germany’s internal structure was so anarchic that no one was in control. The murderous escalation of anti-Jewish measures was the result of untrammelled competition between Nazi leaders, pushing the envelope in a policy-area known to enjoy Hitler’s particular regard. The interchange between these two schools was enormously productive, but over the last ten to fif- teen years an explosion of new research on the Holocaust has so recast the interpretative landscape as to render them almost irrele- vant. For one thing, central leadership and widespread participation no longer look so opposed to one another. It is possible to acknowledge

64 The Pursuit of Genocide

Hitler’s very powerful role without losing sight of his lieutenants’ energy, initiative, and drive. Moreover, it is now evident that inten- tionalists and functionalists shared a number of hidden assumptions that have since been called into question. Both schools concurred in seeing the Holocaust as a thoroughly irrational enterprise. Neither believed the Holocaust was the product of widespread desire—it did not seem possible or plausible that a broad cohort of educated poli- cy-makers should have aspired to such an irrational and murderous ideal. Both sides were thus agreed in ascribing the specific murder- ousness of the vision to Hitler—in the form of a plan, said the inten- tionalists, in the form of vague, catalytic rhetoric, said the structural- ists. Both sides argued that it took the Third Reich’s peculiar power structure (though they disagreed about what this was) to galvanize Hitler’s army of helpers into action. What drove the subordinates to fulfil the plan, according to the intentionalists was loyalty, obedience, or fear in a totalitarian dictatorship; what led them to give reality to murderous fantasies, said the structuralists, was competition for pri- macy in a chaotic power structure. All these assumptions—about rationality, power, and motive—have now been challenged. In particular, the desk-murderers and field-murderers have recently been put under the spotlight. After all, if the Third Reich’s policy environment was characterized neither by absolute dictator- ship nor by anarchy, the question arises as to how Hitler managed to find so many energetic and able racial warriors. Those warriors have come to seem far more willing and motivated than they once did; the ‘intention’, to follow the language of the older debate, was dispersed far more widely than historians once thought. Yet there is no new consensus among historians to account for the willingness to em- brace genocide. Some analysts emphasize particular mentalities, oth- ers particular situations and contexts. These contrasting approaches raise questions about the relationship between ideas, language, and action that extend far beyond the Holocaust.

I Alongside Saul Friedländer and Ian Kershaw,1 Peter Longerich has been one of the most influential scholars redefining the relationship 1 Saul Friedländer, Nazi Germany and the Jews: The Years of Persecution 1933–1939 (London, 1997) and Ian Kershaw, Hitler: 1936–1945, vol. 1: Hubris; vol. 2: Nemesis (Harmondsworth, 2000).

65 Review Articles between Hitler and his followers. His giant study Politik der Vernich- tung, published in 1998 and reviewed in the Bulletin of the GHIL, 22/2 (Nov. 2000), pp. 73–5, constitutes one of the best modern syntheses of the evolution of Nazi murder policy towards not only the Jews, but also the gypsies and the handicapped.2 In that work he expertly tran- scended the polarization of the older debates, showing that Hitler repeatedly intervened in Jewish policy but at the same time depend- ed on a large cohort of enthusiastic followers, who shared and devel- oped many of his goals and ideas. Given the study’s importance and the interest the Holocaust commands, it is very surprising that Politik der Vernichtung is still not available in English. However, non- German-speaking readers can now gain a flavour of Longerich’s ideas with The Unwritten Order, a shorter work completed in the wake of Longerich’s activity as expert witness in the David Irving libel trial. In preparing his expert testimony, Longerich discovered to his surprise that despite more than fifty years of intense historical interest in the Holocaust, the key primary sources remained widely dispersed and often hard to track down. And thus Longerich resolv- ed to produce a short volume, identifying when and where Hitler’s activities are documented, and locating Hitler’s role in relation to the wider process of the Holocaust. The book’s coverage of the 1930s is particularly effective, though the general tenor will be familiar to readers of Saul Friedländer’s magnificent Nazi Germany and the Jews. In short readable chapters, Longerich demolishes the structuralist view that the 1933 pogroms or the Kristallnacht of November 1938 occurred somehow outside Hitler’s control, or that he was ‘bounced’ into producing the Nurem- berg Laws in September 1935. A telling comment was Reich Chan- cellor Hitler’s statement to the Reichstatthalter in September 1933 in the context of explaining why he had deferred some of his proposed laws on Jews. ‘As far as the Jewish question is concerned, there could be no going back. In the Reich Chancellor’s view, it would have been better if increasingly tough measures against the Jews could have been introduced step by step, beginning with a change in the citizen- ship laws and from there gradually tightening the grip on the Jews’ (my translation from the German edition). What was here uttered in

2 Peter Longerich, Politik der Vernichtung: Eine Gesamtdarstellung der national- sozialistischen Judenverfolgung (Munich, 1998).

66 The Pursuit of Genocide the subjunctive could hardly have been a more accurate prediction of later developments from 1935 to 1939. And yet for all the clarity of Hitler’s intention, as Longerich argues, there was no blueprint for Auschwitz waiting in the wings. On the contrary, the aim through- out the 1930s was to get the Jews out of Germany, the further away, the better. When we look at the transition to genocide after 1939, Hitler’s role is more elusive. His interventions, though no less significant, took place less frequently and less publicly, and in some cases his position was almost completely and deliberately obscured. It is understand- able, therefore, that Longerich should widen his brief to explore the process as much as the man, and thus the reader gains a pithy sum- mary of the arguments offered in more detail in Politik der Vernichtung. One of Longerich’s most distinctive contributions lies in the timeframe he ascribes to the transition to murder in Nazi policy. Whereas other authors have tended to focus on the summer and autumn of 1941 as the point at which the idea of a Jewish reservation gave way to the killing fields and gas chambers, Longerich identifies a gestation period extending from the outbreak of war (when in the euthanasia institutes and in Poland murder first emerged as a tool of social engineering) through to the summer of 1942 (when, in Longerich’s view, the Nazis finally introduced pan-European geno- cide against the Jews). Although not everyone will agree with all of this, and many authors still see a critical watershed sometime between July and December 1941, there is certainly now a much greater consensus both that the outbreak of war marked a decisive caesura, and that in the late spring or early summer of 1942 one or several decisions (Himmler’s role is clear, Hitler’s deducible) led to an expansion of the killing programme.3 The weakness of the current volume is that in pursuing his par- ticular interpretation Longerich loses sight of the aim of clarifying exactly what we know and do not know about Hitler’s role. The read-

3 See on this point also Peter Witte, ‘Two decisions concerning the “Final Solution to the Jewish Question”: Deportations to Lódz and Mass murder in Chelmno’, Holocaust and Genocide Studies, 9/3 (1995), pp. 318–45 and Christopher Browning, ‘A final Hitler decision for the “Final Solution”? The Riegner Telegram Reconsidered’, Holocaust and Genocide Studies, 10/1 (1996), pp. 3–10.

67 Review Articles er is offered some speculative and sometimes rather strained argu- mentation with the same confidence and straightforwardness as directly documented matters. Let us take the example of the infa- mous Wannsee Conference held on 20 January 1942. Because of Longerich’s belief that a major change in killing policy came only later in 1942, he is at pains to establish Wannsee’s character as more transitional than definitive. There is much to endorse in this view, but Longerich goes on to argue that what Heydrich was talking about at the meeting was designed to be carried out after the war. This claim is made four times in three pages. Yet there is nothing in the Wannsee Protocol that talks about the end of the war; on the contrary Heydrich uses the phrase ‘when military conditions allow’, which is quite a different thing. Nor was there any need for him to be euphemistic. Heydrich’s remarks and other pointers suggest that a consensus about genocide had been reached, that as soon as military conditions allowed implementation would be stepped up, but that the Nazis had not yet decided exactly how and where the killing would be done.4 Longerich is not necessarily wrong (though his interpretation seems strained here), but for the reader two different orders of probability are being muddled. An opportunity has been wasted to produce the definitive volume specifically documenting (and showing the limits to documentation of) Hitler’s involvement.5 Irmtrud Wojak’s study, Eichmanns Memoiren approaches the Holocaust from lower down in the command process, focusing on Adolf Eichmann, the specialist for deportation and Jewish issues in Heydrich’s Reich Security Main Office (RSHA). Wojak begins with a lively rehearsal of the events leading up to Eichmann’s abduction from Argentina by Israeli agents in May 1960. Fittingly enough for the deputy director of the Fritz Bauer Institute, Wojak explores the covert role of the then Hessian state prosecutor, Fritz Bauer, in providing

4 For contrasting interpretations of the Wannsee Conference see Christian Gerlach, ‘The Wannsee conference, the fate of German Jews and Hitler’s decision in principle to exterminate all European Jews’, in Omer Bartov (ed.), The Holocaust: Origins, Implementation, Aftermath (London, 2000), pp. 106–61; Mark Roseman, The Villa, the Lake, the Meeting: Wannsee and the Final Solution (Harmondsworth, 2002). 5 The Polish historian Czeslaw Madajczyk has made a limited attempt at such a documentation. See his ‘Hitler’s direct influence on decisions affecting Jews during World War II’, Yad Vashem Studies, 20 (1990), pp. 53–68.

68 The Pursuit of Genocide

Israel with information about Eichmann’s whereabouts.6 The book’s real centre of gravity, however, is provided by Eichmann’s three extant post-war memoirs, two of which have only recently become generally available. In the 1950s, Eichmann was visited in Argentina by a Dutch journalist and former SS officer, Willem Sassen, and invited to record his views for a possible publication. It is not clear exactly what Sassen was planning at the time, but it seems that he wanted to use Eichmann’s testimony to refute the ‘myth’ of the Holocaust. His recorded conversations with Eichmann extend to at least 73 reels of tape, from which a written, not entirely verbatim transcript of 798 closely typed pages was then constructed. In the late 1950s Sassen offered the tapes to Stern and Time/Life magazine, which published a series of articles on the basis of them. The transcripts were also used for a 1980s publication by the radical right-wing press Druffel Verlag, with the title Ich Adolf Eichmann.7 Copies of some of the tapes have been available for research in the Federal Archive in Germany since 2000, though the originals were bought by the Baseler Neueste Nachrichten. After Eichmann’s capture, the Sassen interviews were obtained by the prosecution in Jerusalem and they would have been damning indeed had not Eichmann’s defence lawyer managed to cast suffi- cient doubt on their authenticity to have the judge declare most of them inadmissible. In Jerusalem, Eichmann then recorded two fur- ther memoirs, one written shortly after his captivity, entitled ‘Meine Memoiren’, which was used by the prosecution and which Eichmann later disavowed as not having been written voluntarily, and Götzen, a 1,206-page manuscript, completed before the final judgement was known, of which 460 pages were intended for publication. The Israeli authorities recently released Götzen to the general public.8

6 Fritz Bauer’s role was first identified by Zvi Aharoni and Wilhelm Dietl, Operation Eichmann: The Truth About the Pursuit, Capture and Trial (London, 1996). 7 Adolf Eichmann, Ich Adolf Eichmann (Leoni, 1980). Wojak, following Yahil, thinks Druffel Verlag’s claim that the book was based on a different memoir, recorded by Eichmann on his own in the 1950s, is mendacious. Christian Gerlach, however, has since argued that there may have been such a memoir which has not yet been found. Christian Gerlach, ‘The Eichmann interroga- tions in Holocaust historiography’, Holocaust and Genocide Studies, 15/3 (2001), pp. 428–52, at p. 430. 8 It can be viewed online at: http://www.hagalil.com/shoah/eichmann/goetzen.htm.

69 Review Articles

Using these memoirs cautiously in conjunction with other materi- als, Wojak seeks to understand the emergence of the final solution from Eichmann’s vantage point. Eichmann was certainly better placed than most to recall the process. By the outbreak of war the RSHA, in which Eichmann was employed, had established itself as the princi- pal player in Jewish matters. Eichmann’s own star had waxed in 1938 and 1939 as a result of his success in streamlining the forced emigra- tion of Austrian Jews. In fact, as Hans Safrian showed, Eichmann had rather talked up his achievement. When, in October 1938, he proud- ly reported that some 50,000 Austrian Jews had emigrated since the Anschluß, he neglected to mention that his own office had dealt with only a quarter of them.9 But it was enough to get Eichmann dis- patched to Prague to create a centre for emigration there and subse- quently to Berlin to assume control of the German emigration centre. After the outbreak of war Eichmann was appointed the RSHA’s offi- cial for emigration and deportation, charged with developing and implementing a plan to deport Jews to Poland. Eichmann’s perspective on the period between 1939 and 1941 was above all of failure, namely, the failure of repeated efforts to find ter- ritorial ‘solutions’ to the Jewish problem. In his conversations with Sassen, Eichmann vented much bitterness on the failure of his Nisko project—the planned deportation in October 1939 of Jews from Poland and the Czech Protectorate to Nisko on the river San. In his reflections Eichmann muddled this initial stab at Jewish deportations with subsequent initiatives that similarly petered out, and wrongly blamed their collective failure on the opposition of Hans Frank, the Governor of the Government General, who refused to allow his ter- ritory to become a reservation for undesirables. At other points in his lamentations, though, he identified the real obstacle more clearly, namely, the collision between the deportation plans for Jews and Himmler’s ambitious resettlement programme to bring ethnic Germans home into the Reich (or the Reich’s newly occupied territo- ries). The history of Jewish policy from the outbreak of war to autumn 1941 was, in fact, to be the history of a series of increasingly murderous efforts to find a dumping ground for Jews under German control, each of which was stymied by competing resettlement flows or other logistical, economic, or military considerations. In the course

9 Hans Safrian, Die Eichmann-Männer (Vienna, 1993), pp. 110 ff.

70 The Pursuit of Genocide of 1940 Heydrich, and under him Eichmann, attempted a series of more limited bridging schemes, none of which achieved any more than a fraction of the results aspired to. In the summer of 1940 there was the hope that Madagascar might become the ‘promised land’; by the end of the summer however, the failure to destroy British sea- power had sunk that particular murderous flight of fancy. For Eichmann, this was an extended history of frustration and thwarted ambition. Wojak’s findings, though not strikingly new, reinforce with clari- ty research by Safrian, Götz Aly, and others. She offers a persuasive picture of the way ever more radical solutions emerged from the fail- ure of previous ones. Particularly once it became clear in 1941 that the Soviet campaign was going too slowly to allow imminent deporta- tion of Jews beyond the Urals, proposals for direct killing rather than murderous deportations gathered pace. Wojak thinks, plausibly enough, that August–October 1941 was the decisive transitional phase here. September and October saw the emergence all over Eastern Europe of killing sites or test sites—in Belzec (planning had begun in October), in Chelmno (where killings began in December); there were also test killings in Mogilev in the Soviet Union, and plans, unrealized, for a killing site in Lvov. By the end of the transi- tion period the various separate forays into murder had coalesced into a general consensus that genocide was the solution to the Jewish problem. The idea of deportation to some eastern territory became a euphemism. It is against this background that the timing of the Wannsee Conference, to which Heydrich sent invitations at the end of November, becomes explicable. Of course, for all Eichmann’s involvement, many aspects of poli- cy were removed from his purview. The RSHA was not the only player in the Jewish question, and particularly from the autumn of 1941 Himmler also encouraged measures forward through chains of command that bypassed the RSHA. The development of the extermi- nation camps, for example, often took place initially as the result of initiatives between Himmler and regional commanders (Globocnik in Lublin, say, or Greiser in the Warthegau). Wojak’s analysis through Eichmann’s eyes thus cannot be—and is not meant to be—a comprehensive account of the origins of the Final Solution. Above all, it cannot show the many points at which Hitler’s intervention—in demanding a merciless approach to Poles and Jews in autumn 1939,

71 Review Articles in calling for a European-wide deportation programme at the end of 1940, in laying down the murderous rules for the occupation of the Soviet Union in spring 1941, and so on—accelerated, steered or reaf- firmed the process.

II The most original aspect of Wojak’s book is her reappraisal of Eich- mann’s motivation. In Jerusalem Eichmann sought to present himself as the loyal and dutiful servant of policies with which he had not agreed. From being the willing proponent of emigration and (osten- sibly relatively benign) territorial solutions, he claimed to have become the hapless helpmate of murder. In his prison memoirs he wanted to be seen as a kind of crypto-Zionist, seeking to find a land for the Jews. This was never credible. Trial documents proved him to have been an active participant in the transformation to murder. In September 1941, for example, he counselled the German Foreign Office trying to deal with the Jewish ‘problem’ in Serbia that shoot- ing Jews would be the best solution, though it is admittedly unclear how far he was merely echoing the policy already adopted in Serbia by General Böhme.10 In October 1941, he agreed with Wetzel from the Ministry for the Occupied Territories that deportees to the Soviet Union unable to work could be killed.11 By the end of the war, when Himmler was slowing down murder operations in Hungary for diplomatic reasons, Eichmann allowed himself to criticize the appar- ent ‘leniency’ of the new approach (Gerlach and Aly, p. 316). No one believed that Eichmann had acted against his will. But had he been merely an inventive and opportunistic subaltern, or had he really believed in what he was doing? Hannah Arendt’s powerful study of the trial, Eichmann in Jerusalem, with its emblematic subtitle A Report on the Banality of Evil, described Eichmann as the colourless bureaucrat, the specialist, driven forward by perfectionism and ambition. Wojak shows that this is a misconception and, like Yaacov

10 On this episode see Walter Manoschek, ‘Serbien ist Judenfrei’: Militärische Besatzungspolitik und Judenvernichtung in Serbien 1941/2 (Munich, 1993). 11 David Cesarani, whose extremely helpful comments I gratefully acknowl- edge, is less sure of Eichmann’s innovative role here. His forthcoming study of Eichmann will be a very important addition to the literature on the perpe- trators.

72 The Pursuit of Genocide

Lozowick,12 seeks to reawaken a sense of Eichmann the convinced ideologue rather than the pernickety bureaucrat. Arendt’s account, she shows, was very much at odds with Eichmann’s self-presentation to Sassen. In the Sassen tapes, Eichmann’s sarcastic references to the number of ‘allegedly gassed Jews’ still alive are revealing enough. He explicitly saw himself as having been an ideologue. Yes, he acknowl- edged, he had been the careful bureaucrat, but, he went on, ‘this cau- tious bureaucrat was joined by the fanatical warrior for the freedom of the blood from which I descend’. ‘I must say to you in all honesty that had we killed the 10.3 million Jews ... then I would be satisfied and I would say, good, we exterminated the enemy ... We would have fulfilled our task for our blood and our people and for the free- dom of all people’ (my translation). And he went on to blame himself for not having managed to do more. This itself, of course, was a rhetorical act, in a particular interactive situation where fascist brava- do was called for, and which we need not take at face value either, but it is certainly not the language of the faithful bureaucrat. Arendt was, as Wojak acknowledges, more aware of the contra- dictions in Eichmann’s character than some recent critics, including Lozowick, allow. Arendt’s principal contention was surely correct: that neither Eichmann’s stature at the trial, nor his consciousness of his deeds, stood in any relationship to the enormity of what he had done. Even in his apologetic Götzen, designed to appeal to the post- war world, this is painfully evident. His preoccupation with the man- uscript’s format, for example is chillingly autistic. ‘My style of writ- ing is South-German–Bavarian’, he noted. ‘Should the editor come from this region, it is possible that that would be an advantage for the book.’ And a little later: ‘The binding and cover should be a single colour, perhaps pearl-grey or dove-grey, with a clear graceful font.’ ‘Obviously’, he wrote, ‘I do not want to write under a pseudonym, since that would not be suitable for the nature of the matter at hand (‘Natur der Sache’).’ The ‘Natur der Sache’ remained, to the end, beyond Eichmann’s comprehension.13 Wojak and Lozowick’s rediscovery of Eichmann as man of con- viction is symptomatic of what one might call the ‘re-ideologizing’ of

12 Yaacov Lozowick, Hitler’s Bureaucrats: The Nazi Security Police and the Banality of Evil (New York, 2002). 13 My translations from Götzen.

73 Review Articles the perpetrators. Pre-dating Daniel Goldhagen’s Hitler’s Willing Executioners, but certainly spurred on by that book, historians have been trying to understand what motivated Hitler’s killers. Much of the most interesting work has centred not so much on the lower-level SS or policemen with whom Goldhagen was concerned, as on the middle and higher ranking functionaries—Eichmann’s level and upwards—who helped to give shape and impact to Nazi racial poli- cy. This is the territory of Michael Wildt’s important new work, Generation des Unbedingten, a thousand-page analysis of the RSHA and its leading staff. Both the RSHA, formed under Heydrich in 1939 as a fusion of security police and the SD (the SS intelligence service and think- tank), and the SD itself, have enjoyed increasing attention from his- torians over the last few years.14 This is partly because material recently discovered in Moscow archives has provided new insights into the SD’s involvement in Jewish policy. Thus Michael Wildt’s 1995 edition of SD memoranda on the Jewish question revealed that many Nazi policies first saw the light of day as think-pieces from the backroom boys of the SD.15 It is also because the historian Ulrich Herbert has brought Heydrich’s bright young men into promi- nence.16 Herbert’s celebrated biography of Werner Best17 set much of the agenda for Wildt’s new study, above all the notion that the cohort of young intellectuals recruited by Heydrich shared a common set of

14 The security police have also found their historian. See George C. Browder, Foundations of the Nazi Police State: The Formation of SIPO and SD (Lexington, Ky, 1990). 15 Michael Wildt (ed.), Die Judenpolitik des SD 1935 bis 1938: Eine Dokumen- tation (Munich, 1995). In English, see also Michael Wildt, ‘Before the “Final Solution”: The Judenpolitik of the SD, 1935–1938’, Leo Baeck Institute Year Book, 43 (1998), pp. 241–69. 16 In English, see his introduction to Ulrich Herbert (ed.), National Socialist Extermination Policy 1939–1945 (Oxford, 2000) and id., ‘Ideological legit- imization and political practice of the leadership of the National Socialist Secret Police’, in Hans Mommsen (ed.), The Third Reich Between Vision and Reality: New Perspectives on German History 1918–1945 (Oxford, 2001), pp. 95–108. 17 Ulrich Herbert, Best: Biographische Studien über Radikalismus, Weltanschau- ung und Vernunft, 1903–1989 (Bonn, 1996).

74 The Pursuit of Genocide experiences and values that made them flexible and unflinching war- riors in the racial struggle. Using the Berlin Document Centre records, extant RSHA official files, and a wealth of other written information where available, Wildt constructs a profile of the RSHA’s leading officials, with spe- cific vignettes on representative or well-documented individuals before, during, and after the Nazi period. Like Herbert, Wildt detects a great deal of common ground and many common experiences among the young men recruited into the SD in the 1930s. Most belonged to the Kriegsjugend, that is, those born in the years after 1900, just too young to have served at the front in the First World War. Most went to university in the 1920s, indeed a significant pro- portion had doctorates. Wildt paints a vivid picture of their shared personal and cultural background—experiences of war on the home- front, the shattering impact of defeat and inflation, and the acute sense of belonging to a new and different generation. Spared the murderousness and arbitrariness of war, they were enthused by mar- tial values. Under the influence of defeat, post-war revolutionary vio- lence and inflation, they felt cut off from the optimistic youth-move- ments of the past, and indeed from the bourgeois certainties of the pre-1914 period. A striking number of the SD’s later recruits were members of the Freikorps or of the radical right-wing student and youth groups of the 1920s. Beyond such early signs of an explicitly right-wing agenda, the young men of the SD manifested a congru- ence in style—a manly anti-bourgeois activism with an emphasis on the leader, the personality, and the deed. It was the ‘unconditional generation’ or the ‘no-holds-barred generation’. Wildt’s early chapters are concise and convincing, particularly when interspersed with snapshots of selected individual SD mem- bers’ formative years. The book imposes neither a false homogeneity nor a rigid teleology; there is no suggestion that the later SD mem- bers or security policemen were pre-programmed as youngsters to become murderous adults a few years later. Hans Gräfe, for example, who admittedly remained one of the security police’s more complex and ambiguous figures, emerges as an engaging and impressive presence on the 1920s Tübingen student scene, by no means dogmat- ically anti-democratic and certainly hostile to the Nazi student move- ment. His career in the SD and later the Gestapo took place in a series of tentative steps, and his intellectual journey was also a gradual one.

75 Review Articles

What Wildt is talking about, then, is a set of potentialities and propensities, given specific direction and impetus only after Hitler’s seizure of power. So what were the forces after 1933 that turned the Generation des Unbedingten into the generation of genocide? For Wildt the key lies in the specific character of the institutions into which these young men were recruited and in the radicalizing impact of war. The élite hot- house atmosphere in the SD encouraged an academically educated group of young men, who were already committed to the ideas of natural leadership, activism, and a racial nationalism, rapidly to develop new and more radical agendas in the sphere of racial policy. The increasing integration of SD and security police in the second half of the 1930s, culminating in the creation of the RSHA just after the outbreak of war, formed a new kind of institution, neither state nor party but something in between, with the executive power, appa- ratus, and human capital of the state police and the SD’s flexibility and ideological orientation. Of course, more than thirty years ago Martin Broszat identified the importance of the new bureaucratic hybrids created by the Nazis, of which the creation under Himmler of a single chain of command for both SS and police (as part of which the RSHA then emerged) was the most significant and dangerous. But as Broszat conceived his explanation for policy radicalization, institutional chaos was a sub- stitute for ideological purpose. The emergence of ever-new hybrids and splinter organizations was a function of the Führer’s failure to control the system; and the radicalization that followed was not planned but the result of power-struggles between the satraps. Wildt challenges the opposition of ‘intention’ and ‘structure’, arguing that the two dovetailed and interacted. The ideological convictions shared between Heydrich and his staff not only helped to give the institutions their character and their cohesion but were responsible for the choice of institutional form in the first place. Noteworthy in this respect were the competing conceptions in 1938 of Werner Best, head of the SD’s administrative department and the administrative department of the security police, and Walter Schellenberg, a rapid- ly rising SD star whom Heydrich regularly commissioned for think- tank reports. Best wanted to absorb the SD into a civil service pattern, harmonizing its career structure with that of the state police; but Schellenberg, whose conception was more nearly realized, argued

76 The Pursuit of Genocide that this would stifle the SD’s initiative, flexibility, eclectic recruit- ment structure, and ideological openness. Heydrich and Schellen- berg deliberately proposed flexible organizations that would give concrete form to their ideal of the ‘combative bureaucracy’. Although the fusion process began in 1936, the RSHA itself emerged just as the outbreak of the Second World War was trans- forming what was thinkable and do-able. For Wildt, the significance of the Polish campaign in rendering possible the previously unimag- inable cannot be exaggerated. The mass murder actions in Poland constituted in effect the founding act for the RSHA. It was in Poland that men like Bruno Streckenbach learned to cast aside the restraints of modern civilization, and to practise social engineering with the machine gun. As the Einsatzgruppen trials in 1948 discovered, the men of the SD and security police showed an astonishing flexibility in moving from desk jobs to murder squads and back again in the course of the war. There is a great deal to endorse in this long, detailed, and humane book, and yet the reader of its central sections comes away unsatis- fied. Somehow, we do not feel we have been given the explanation for radicalization that we had been promised. This is partly because for all the individual vignettes, Wildt does not bring the personal trans- formations to life. Instead, we see students of the 1920s plausibly becoming the writers of reports and elegant think-pieces in the 1930s, but then being posted to places east and abruptly beginning to mur- der people. The more observable transition is rather the familiar one of policy at the top level, as Hitler, Himmler, and Heydrich set increasingly violent new rules. The dominant impression left by Wildt’s account of the Polish campaign, for example, is less of the evo- lution ‘below’, facilitated by a flexible institutional structure, than of Hitler and then Himmler and Heydrich agreeing in advance to adopt radical policies of pacification, population concentration, and depor- tation that were passed down to the Einsatzkommandos in the field. What reinforces our disquiet about the institutional analysis is the knowledge that Jewish policy had been radicalizing since 1933, well before the RSHA existed, and not just within the hot-house atmos- phere of the SD. Recent research has underlined the degree to which the Nazis were able to mobilize cadres and activists across the length and breadth of Germany, and to stimulate forceful and indeed vio- lent action against Jews. True enough, some of the other agencies

77 Review Articles shared institutional characteristics with the later RSHA. They, too, were flexible hybrids, enjoying state authority while being freed from the constraints of traditional bureaucracies. But there were also pure- ly party institutions that did not directly exercise state power. And traditional bodies such as the courts were heavily involved too. All took the baton in the race to find a solution to the Jewish question. We wonder if the structural aspect of Wildt’s explanation is not too narrowly focused; Broszat’s emphasis on competition between insti- tutions, and on the ‘threat-effect’ to the rest of the system created by the fact that the SS and not the state ran the concentration camps, seems better to capture the structural aspect of radicalization than does Wildt’s focus on the internal dynamic created within one par- ticular kind of institution. Glancing at the wider picture makes us wonder about some aspects of Wildt’s cohort-based ideological analysis too. As Ruth Bettina Birn has shown (and Wildt acknowledges), the Higher SS and Police Leaders—no slouches when it came to upping the ante in wartime extermination policy—were all significantly older than Heydrich’s boys, belonging mostly to the ‘front generation’ rather than the war youth.18 The concentration camp commanders were, until the second half of the war at least, also from this older genera- tion, and did not have the same educated background as the RSHA either. And if one is then to argue that all these different groupings have their own specific trajectory and institutional basis for radical- izing, then something has been lost; the story of Nazi Germany’s decent into the Holocaust fragments into a series of separate histo- ries, and the singularity of the project remains unexplained. The oddity, it seems to me, is that Wildt should focus so narrow- ly on the institution after having offered such a splendidly wide- ranging and well-situated picture of the 1920s. After 1933, the men of the SD and RSHA did not suddenly lose contact with the moving ideas and problems of their time. Instead, these high-flying élites were part of a system that involved Hitler, the party movement, the wider population and the international situation. It is surely in this wider context that we should seek the roots of any radicalization. Heydrich’s staff responded to the national mood, saw signals coming

18 Ruth Bettina Birn, Die Höheren SS- und Polizeiführer: Himmlers Vertreter im Reich und in den besetzen Gebieten (Düsseldorf, 1986).

78 The Pursuit of Genocide from on high, were caught up in an increasingly paranoid national vision of Germany’s internal and external enemies, and played power games to dominate the racial policy agenda. When we turn to the post-war period, Wildt offers absolutely fas- cinating detail about life after the RSHA. That the adjutant of Artur Nebe (Nebe was the head of the Security Police’s Criminal Technical Institute, the man who, amongst other things, brought the use of car- bon monoxide into the killing of Jews), Karl Schulz, should after the war become the head of the State Criminal Office in Social Democrat- run Bremen is astounding. But Wildt’s conclusion that the reason Schulz was now harmless was that he was operating within a firm legal framework and no longer in an ‘unbounded institution’ (‘ent- grenzte Institution’) is either not convincing, or is blurring the boundaries of the argument. If Wildt means simply that Schulz was now tied into the constitutional order of the Federal Republic, that is true but trite, and surely points more to the overall direction given to the FRG’s bureaucrats by national (and international) developments rather than a specific institutional setting. To take a slightly absurd counter-factual, if we were to posit that a special, semi-independent criminal police task force with a great deal of autonomy had been cre- ated in Schlwesig-Holstein in the 1950s, it is hard to believe that a Karl Schulz in charge of it would significantly have departed from the guidelines of the constitution. Such post-war stories also raise a question. Why did the ‘uncon- ditional generation’ become the adaptable generation? The most rad- ical example of the strange mirror world after 1945 is surely the case of Hans Rößner. Rößner, born in 1910, studied German and History at Leipzig University and joined the SD in 1934, at the very youthful age of 23. He wrote a doctoral thesis on the poet Stefan George, attacking the lack of racial-biological and racial-spiritual instinct among George’s circle. A year or two later, he produced an extensive SD report on the state of German literature, attacking freemasons, Jews, Catholics, and liberals. During the war he worked under Otto Ohlendorf in the SD-Inland, calling for a Germanically based spiritu- al revolution in Europe. Interned after the war, he was subject to a hefty fine for his SS and SD membership, but this was commuted into imprisonment, which itself was regarded as spent by virtue of Rößner’s internment before trial, and thus he was neither fined nor imprisoned. Finding employment with the Stalling publishing com-

79 Review Articles pany, he did not forget his old SD contacts, and put together such volumes as Denker und Deuter im heutigen Europa (1954) and Forscher und Wissenschaftler im heutigen Europa (1955) with ample contribu- tions from SD intellectuals looking for a new career. By 1958 he had risen to a senior position with the highly respected Piper Verlag in Munich. Here he took over a stable of leading authors including Hannah Arendt. The former Nazi Rößner worked happily with the German-Jewish Arendt on a book about the Hungarian Revolution of 1956 and then continued the collaboration with Arendt’s study of the famous nineteenth-century German-Jewish salonist and writer, Rahel Varnhagen. Rößner wanted the word ‘Jewess’ removed from the subtitle on the Varnhagen book. In what way, and to what degree, his own past and ideology influenced him here is not clear. Evidently Rößner thought flagging up the ‘Jewess’ would negatively affect sales. Arendt was on the verge of becoming apoplectic, when Elisabeth Piper-Holthaus, the wife of Piper Verlag’s owner, came up with a compromise acceptable to all: Rahel Varnhagen: Lebensgeschichte einer deutschen Jüdin aus der Romantik. Again and again Rößner wrote sycophantic letters to Arendt: ‘It is for all of us reassuring and encouraging that you exist and how you exist.’ But the macabre high-point of this interaction was the publication by Piper of Arendt’s Eichmann in Jerusalem. It is hard to know what to do with Rößner musing in correspondence whether the ‘Jewish ques- tion’ should be translated (as Arendt wanted) with the harsh and authentic ‘Judenfrage’ (‘Jew question’) or the more delicate post-war style ‘jüdische Frage’ (Jewish question). Rößner, who just a few years earlier had been setting the tone with tractates on the ‘Judenfrage’, must have been only too aware of what the terminology should be. What kind of false consciousness or bad faith on Rößner’s part was involved here? Rößner, it seemed, like the Eichmann whose condem- nation he so happily published, had learned nothing. But why then was Rößner so willing to work alongside Arendt and publish her books? What does this adaptability tell us about the strength of the ideological commitment? Generation des Unbedingten does not pro- vide the answer.

III Even before historians of the Nazi period began to rediscover the power of Weltanschauungen, another and rather different challenge

80 The Pursuit of Genocide was being raised to the older model of the reluctant or accidental perpetrator. That older model, as we know, went hand in hand with a view that Nazi racial policy was fundamentally irrational, a destructive reaction against the rational goals of the Enlightenment and of the modern state. What made the Nazi state so deadly, it was argued, was that modern bureaucracies had been deployed to achieve anti-modern ends. But historians in the 1980s began to dis- cover the ‘Holocaust in the modern’—including the many continu- ities and parallels between the Third Reich’s approach to race, on the one hand, and the social and health policies of other modern states on the other.19 Detlev Peukert, in particular, programmatically identi- fied the planned and the modern in Nazi racial doctrine, and the neg- ative rationality of the Nazis’ selective social engineering.20 Against this background, Götz Aly and Susanne Heim discovered an army of population planners, social health officials, and other experts involved in actively proposing and legitimizing murderous solutions in Eastern Europe.21 Some of this work was justly criticized on the grounds that it paid too little heed to anti-Semitism. The ‘spirit of science’, which Peukert invoked, might help explain the transition towards euthanasia—but how could it account for the elimination of able-bodied Jewish work- ers? And even where there seemed a ‘logic’ to the killings (where the removal of Jews, say, promised to liberate more resources than it cost in manpower), what could such allegedly modern planning do to explain the choice of Jews as victims and not other groups? This led to a second wave of work beginning in the mid-1990s, which acknowledges the undoubted force of anti-Semitism, but seeks with-

19 Mark Roseman, ‘National Socialism and Modernisation’, in Richard Bessel (ed.), Fascist Italy and Nazi Germany: Comparisons and Contrasts (Cambridge, 1996), pp. 197–229. 20 See Detlev J. K. Peukert, Volksgenossen und Gemeinschaftsfremde: Anpassung, Ausmerze und Aufbegehren unter dem Nationalsozialismus (Cologne, 1982); id., ‘The Genesis of the “Final Solution” from the Spirit of Science’, in Thomas Childers and Jane Caplan (eds.), Reevaluating the Third Reich (New York, 1993), pp. 234–52. 21 See Götz Aly et al., Sozialpolitik und Judenvernichtung: Gibt es eine Ökonomie der Endlösung? (Berlin, 1987). Götz Aly and Susanne Heim, Vordenker der Vernichtung: Auschwitz und die deutschen Pläne für eine neue europäische Ordnung (Hamburg, 1991).

81 Review Articles in that ideological context to show the importance of population and economic calculation in developing murderous policies towards the Jews and others. Götz Aly’s ‘Endlösung’: Völkerverschiebung und der Mord an den europäischen Juden (1995) was, like his earlier Vordenker der Vernichtung (1993), a milestone in research on the Holocaust, and it was Aly who first identified the way in which Himmler’s plans for ethnic Germans continually undermined attempts to find a Polish territorial solution for Europe’s Jews; his influence is evident throughout Wojak’s book, for example. Alongside Aly, few authors have made a bigger impact on Holocaust research than Christian Gerlach, whose indefatigable archival work has resulted in two major monographs as well as a number of highly influential essays and collections. Gerlach’s Kalkulierte Morde (1999) examined German annihilation policies in White Russia, one of the areas most devastat- ed by the war. Gerlach showed that from the very start, the Germans’ murderous approach to Soviet occupation was conditioned by nutri- tional calculations that assumed tens of millions of Soviets citizens needed to die if the food requirements of the army and future Ger- man settlers were to be met. The intensity of killing policy oscillated during the war, he argued, in response to fluctuating German calcu- lations of the desirability of conserving manpower for wartime pro- duction as against eliminating manpower for the sake of freeing up foodstocks and farmland.22 In Das letzte Kapitel Gerlach and Aly have now jointly produced a powerful and important new account of the murder of the Hungarian Jews in summer 1944, when in just eight weeks the Nazis sent 435,000 men, women, and children to Auschwitz-Birkenau, three quarters of whom were murdered on arrival. This was the last great burst of Nazi extermination policy. It was these killings which, through photographs, memories, and other sources, have most con- tributed to our sense of Auschwitz as the emblematic centre of mur- der. Yet, as Aly and Gerlach note, Hungary has been left largely untouched by the recent wave of research on the Holocaust. This is because the crucial transitions and the redefinition of the ‘Final Solution’ away from territory to genocide all took place so much ear- lier. When the Hungarian killings are cited, it is usually to reinforce

22 Christian Gerlach, Kalkulierte Morde: Die deutsche Wirtschafts- und Vernichtungspolitik in Weißrußland 1941 bis 1944 (Hamburg, 1999).

82 The Pursuit of Genocide the sense of insanity; why, at such a late and critical juncture of the war, should so much energy have been devoted to murdering the Hungarian Jews? In their introduction, Gerlach and Aly argue that Hungary cannot be understood simply as a wild, irrational extension of murder. To make the mass murder of Jews seem worthwhile at this point in the war required specific considerations that seemed real and vital to the perpetrators. In a sophisticated section the authors argue that we should treat anti-Semitism not as an abstract dogma, but effectively as a lens that influenced the way other factors were perceived and evaluated. This is a powerful approach, challenging the misleading simplicity of the concept of rationality as it appeared in earlier works of the genre. What remains ambiguous in this statement, however, is how solid and firm the authors see these other considerations as being. In other words, how ‘sound’ was the Nazi reasoning, and how logical their diagnosis—if one for a moment were to accept the pre- miss that targeting Jews was a good thing? We also wonder whether the problem with all this is that the murderous premiss (namely, that all things being equal, the Jews of Europe should be eliminated) was so historically distinctive that the secondary reasoning is almost irrelevant—indeed, more than that, misleading in the claim it makes to logic. The first thing Gerlach and Aly show unambiguously is that the German occupation of its ally Hungary on 19 March 1944 was not driven by a wild desire to get at Hungary’s Jews. After all, as the authors note, Germany dropped its plans for invading Rumania, even though Rumania had for tactical reasons alighted from the anti- Semitic bandwagon. By occupying Hungary, Hitler’s main aim was rather to prevent the Regent, Miklos von Horthy, from concluding a peace deal with the Allies, and to intensify the use of Hungarian resources. Were it not for these pressing matters, German troops would not have entered Hungarian territory, and Hungary’s Jews might have survived. Next, the authors demonstrate convincingly and depressingly that Jewish killings distracted far fewer resources from the war than might be supposed. In contrast with, say, Poland in 1942, in Hungary the Germans were mindful of the need to deploy Jewish labour. Hitler confirmed in April 1944 that he was willing to see 100,000 Hungarian Jews working in German production, and roughly a quar-

83 Review Articles ter of the Hungarian Jews sent to Auschwitz were selected to work. Moreover, the deportations of Hungarian Jews were carried out at a time when the rail transport situation had eased considerably. Trains were not commandeered at the direct cost of troop manœuvres or vital supply transports, whatever other ‘opportunity costs’ there may have been for the railways. Finally, the sequestration of Jewish assets was lucrative enough to more than compensate for the costs of Jewish concentration and deportation. In other words, Nazi occupation pol- icy was by no means as out of kilter with the demands of war as has been supposed. The occupation was prompted by sound military cal- culation. Thereafter, murder of Jews was syncopated with the rhythm of military operations. Another convincing strand of the authors’ argument is that Hungarian involvement and support was essential to achieve the fantastical killing rates of summer 1944. France, though given much less room to manœuvre in relation to its German occupiers, managed to protect over 75 per cent of its Jews. Moreover, in July 1944, responding to pressures from the Allies and the Vatican, Horthy stopped the deportations—a clear sign that the Hungarians had not lost the power to influence events (even though deportations were later resumed). So why were they willing to co-operate? The authors offer a detailed account of the interaction between German and Hungarian anti-Semitism. Certainly, the radicalization of Hungarian rhetoric and actions against Jews in the second half of the 1930s would have been more modest had not the powerful German neighbour and ally set the example. Nevertheless, even before the Nazis came to power in Germany there had been a strong autochthonous anti- Semitism in Hungary. For the Hungarian right, Jewish wealth came to be seen as the means whereby, in a deeply polarized Hungarian soci- ety, modest social redistribution could be effected without alienating important élites. Long before the Nazis arrived in Budapest first steps were taken there to expropriate and redistribute Jewish property. In 1941–2, the Hungarians deported a number of Jews to certain death under German hands. Hungarian troops carried out murders them- selves. In 1942, Prime Minister Kallay declared to enormous enthusi- asm that the land question in Hungary could be solved only by removal of the Jews. Again, it is important to note that the Catholic and conservative Horthy could not then be persuaded to endorse the German murder policy. Indeed, he remained impervious to Hitler’s

84 The Pursuit of Genocide threats right up to the German invasion. Left to its own devices Hungary would never have carried out a final solution. But there was much common ground on which the German occupiers could draw. The stance of the Hungarian right encouraged Nazi planners to see in expropriation of the Jews a way of satisfying the Hungarians as well as themselves. In April–May 1944, once the general tendency of Nazi policy was clear, Hungarian officials pressed for deportations almost at a faster pace than the German authorities could cope with. In all this, Gerlach and Aly break new ground and reflect a new inter- est in the perpetrators beyond the German borders. There is also a most sensitive and differentiated approach to the actions and free- dom of manœuvre of Jewish leaders in Hungary. Less clear-cut is the extent and weight of the authors’ arguments about the logic behind killing Hungarian Jews. There is no doubt that from the start of German thinking about the Hungarian occupation, dealing with Jews was given considerable priority. Even before becoming Germany’s plenipotentiary in Hungary, Dr Edmund Veesenmayer contended in a lengthy think-piece that solving the Jewish question would be an important part of any occupation. Because he was responding to a long-established demand of the Hungarian radical right, there was a certain political logic to his view that redistributing Jewish property would help create greater cohe- sion in Hungarian society and mobilize the nationalist right on Germany’s behalf. Aly and Gerlach make much of the role of sequestered Jewish resources in providing the funds for the cost of German occupation. The Hungarian authorities clearly did hope that deporting Jews would also ease the food supply situation and reduce the black market problem. Jewish assets were genuinely substantial enough to make a worthwhile social and economic policy target. They may have amounted to between one fifth and one quarter of Hungarian national wealth, equivalent to several years’ worth of the entire Hungarian national budget. In other words, for the anti- Semite, Hungary’s Jews made a tasty target, and once targeted, pro- vided sufficient assets to make a substantial contribution to econom- ic and social goals. Once the programme was in operation, the Ger- mans became well aware of the significance of Jewish assets in Hungarian financial planning, and at times used the fact that they had removed unwanted Jews as an argument for demanding more resources.

85 Review Articles

Beyond the Veesenmayer memorandum, though, relatively little hard evidence is offered here that the concrete economic benefits of attacking Jewry played a major role in German thinking in advance. Nor do the authors pursue the question—and in view of the short- lived duration of the German occupation and the subsequent Soviet invasion it can be only a hypothetical question—of the cost of remov- ing a group so powerfully and intimately connected with the Hungarian economy as the Jews. In Poland and Russia, there might have been a stronger (though completely inhuman) argument that removing useless eaters was of enduring economic benefit. But the nutritional arguments here weighed little, and removing capital owners had much greater implications. Given that Germany was interested in an extended period of productive co-operation with the Hungarian economy, it is hard to believe that anyone other than a determined anti-Semite would seek to remove such an obviously powerful and successful group of capitalists at this point in the war. Furthermore, the fact that the kinds of arguments used in particular nations varied so much—useless eaters here, rich exploiters there— shows the versatility of anti-Semitism, but also the limited value of these rationalizations as explanations for behaviour. Are we con- vinced, for example, that if the large Jewish population in Hungary had been much poorer the Germans would have been less keen to deport them? No doubt the ‘useless eaters’ argument would then have been all the more convincing. In other words, we are left won- dering how sincere, how instrumental, how cogent, and ultimately how significant were the specific arguments for tackling Jews.

IV The books under review provide ample evidence of the richness and quality of recent writing on the Holocaust. The engagement with the army of decision-makers has been enormously productive. Yet we are left with questions and confusions. Perhaps no explanation will ever satisfy, just as nothing will quite do—to take a more modest example from the preceding century—to account for the transformation of civ- ilized European administrators into murderous colonial masters. We can follow with our eyes the gradual drift across the line but we can- not mentally make the same journey. Such discounting of human life, the emergence of planned but wanton destructiveness, has a horribly mysterious quality that, say, violent soldiery in combat does not.

86 The Pursuit of Genocide

But beyond the general modern mystery of the civilized murder- er we are conscious of the special complexities that characterize the relationship between ideas, language, and action in Nazi Germany. The perpetrators operated in a speech-world bounded by the hyper- bole of Hitlerian rhetoric at one end and the euphemisms of Nazi pol- icy on the other. Hitler’s language was already murderous enough in the 1920s to describe the actions of the 1940s; and yet it took great leaps of imagination and faith to make the reality approach the rhet- oric. In this strange mirror world, in which the wild fulminations against the Jews came to be more and more realistic, and the anodyne language of policy more and more euphemistic, it is particularly hard to distinguish instrumental utterances from deep convictions. But as the number and range of in-depth accounts of the policy-makers and perpetrators grows, so we can begin to build a synthesis of the ideas and contexts that propelled so many intelligent, able men into the abyss.

MARK ROSEMAN is Professor of Modern History at the University of Southampton. He has recently published Three Post-War Eras in Comparison: Western Europe 1918–1945–1989 (co-edited with Carl Levy) (2002), The Villa, the Lake, the Meeting: Wannsee and the Final Solution (2002), and The Past in Hiding (2000). With Norbert Reichling he is cur- rently working on a book about the Bund: Gemeinschaft sozialistischen Lebens, and (with Neil Gregor and Nils Roemer) on an edited collection of papers, German History from the Margins.

87 BOOK REVIEWS

GUENTHER ROTH, Max Webers deutsch-englische Familiengeschichte 1800–1950 mit Briefen und Dokumenten (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2001), xx + 721 pp. ISBN 3 16 147557 7. EUR 84.00

As a book, as a research project, and as an academic achievement, this work is quite extraordinary. Roth has tracked Max Weber’s genealo- gy back at least three generations and he has used every available archival source to reconstruct the various family histories. The book is based on primary sources throughout its length, which is, indeed, the reason for its own great length. The correspondence these families left behind is simply vast. The Baumgarten family, whose Hermann was Weber’s uncle, left an archive of 3,500 letters, and this is only a fraction of the documents utilized by Roth. To reconstruct a family narrative, the historian has to construct the letters as a correspon- dence. Sisters, who are the main correspondents, write to each other, they write to husbands, parents, and grandparents, and some of these letters are passed around the family with each reader perhaps adding their own comments. Bringing a correspondence to life takes an enormous amount of diligence. At the least the researcher has to find, wherever possible, the corresponding letter, which announces a subject, poses a question, and states the original event, all of which become taken for granted in the commentary of subsequent letters. Allow that the letters may not be in the same archive, that they are probably uncatalogued, that the date is given as Monday, and that the envelope is missing, also that in the many cases, like that of the not impecunious Helene Weber, the writers save paper by cross- hatching their lines and writing endlessly around every margin— and you begin to understand what sort of undertaking has been accomplished here. Guenther Roth, rather unnervingly, does not really mention any of these difficulties, and not even a facsimile of a letter is reproduced. Helene Weber, for example, mostly dispensed with punctuation, offering her children a free flow of consciousness broken only by where she lifts the nib—usually, and disconcertingly, in the middle of a word. Roth is to be congratulated for opening up the archives to such a wide-ranging scrutiny.

88 Max Weber’s Family History

The most obvious beneficiaries of this book are going to be histo- rians of gender, family life, and the family business. The things that mattered to the bourgeois family in the nineteenth century are fully illustrated and doggedly pursued. Property, income, rents, and yields are the basso profundo of family history, which constantly reverberates in the correspondence even if it is not explicitly men- tioned. Deaths are the crucial point for the researcher, for then there is a will and testament and an extensive letter coverage of who is to inherit what. Likewise marriages. In a world where wealth is tied to the family enterprise, an unstable marriage that could fail, or a child- less marriage, create problems in the form of the family that here serves the purpose of consolidating wealth. The best struck mar- riages were partnerships in the business and legal sense. Like royal families, the bourgeois family business favoured the marrying of cousins, so maintaining a tendency to endogamy. The gender consequences of this system were far-reaching. Friedrich Engels’s formulation of bourgeois marriage as a form of prostitution goes too far, although there is little sense of anyone gain- ing sexual satisfaction in this volume. As Marianne Weber piously recorded of her selfless mother, Anna Weber, marriage was for life and not a matter of sexual adventure. Throughout the book there is a steady thud of heiresses getting nailed, often before they had reached the age of twenty-one—and to delay beyond the age of twenty-three was to risk being ‘left on the shelf’. The sixty-three-year-old merchant Jonas Darfeldt married the twenty-three-year-old Elisabeth Mylius. The capital joined together by this union underpinned a linen whole- saling business and a shipping concern. Hermann Baumgarten attempted to propose to Ida Fallenstein when she was sixteen, and was told to wait two years by the father Georg Fallenstein. Likewise, Max Weber sen. proposed to Helene Fallenstein when she was six- teen. The experience of early childbirth and high infant mortality led the Fallenstein sisters (and not only Ida and Helene) to regard their husbands as insensitive to their inner feelings, though fathers were represented as paragons of virtue whatever the degree of their auth- oritarianism. The essentials of gender inequality are, of course, well- known, but the letter material that Roth has unearthed throws it into sharp relief. These heiresses were given a restricted education—reli- gion, literature, arts, and housekeeping—and a limited understand- ing of the world. On marriage the man was patriarch to children and

89 Book Reviews wife. The wives lost control of their often considerable dowry to the husband. Engagements were often marked by an understandable adolescent hysteria in many of the women, Anna Weber and Helene Fallenstein being good examples. Wives had almost no knowledge of carnality. There is a correspondence between Ida and Helene when they are both in their fifties about Tolstoy’s Kreutzer Sonata. This explained to them, at last, the underlying sentiments of male sexual behaviour. Gender inequality was the concomitant of the family enterprise and it is here that Roth’s family history is most informative. Max Weber, as we know, held down a paid job only between 1894 and 1903, and again from 1917 to 1920. Apart from this he was a private scholar, supported initially by his parents, and then as well by his wife. The sources of this money were two substantial family busi- nesses whose operation is assiduously traced by Roth. The origin of Max Weber’s parents’ money was Carl Cornelius Souchay (1769–1838). He became a partner in the firm of Mylius and Adelbert, which dealt in wholesaling linen, exporting, and acting as a middleman for buy- ers. The firm established businesses in the manufacturing of textiles and chemicals in England. Speculation in commodities had always been a source of capital accumulation (as well as losses), and under Souchay’s control the enterprise greatly profited by running the Napoleonic blockade. Further partners were found in England, such as William Benecke, who had extensive interests in Lancashire tex- tiles, which in the early nineteenth century considerably undercut German production in price. Souchay also placed his sons and mem- bers of his wife’s family in charge of the firms that were located in Leipzig, Genoa, and England. Throughout the nineteenth century, for over three generations there was a movement of Souchays, Schuncks, and Beneckes between Leeds, Manchester, Deptford, Frankfurt, Heidelberg, Genoa, and Milan. Roth charts in specific detail the ups and down of these firms, the complex patterns of intermarriage, and the worth of the firms as revealed in wills. Much of the income was re-invested in the firm rather than the capital being distributed on the death of a partner. The businesses were very profitable and led to the construction of four Heidelberg villas, those on Ziegelhäuser Landstrasse and Neuen- heimerstrasse being particularly favoured. Two of the partners work- ing in England retired to Heidelberg (Pickford and Benecke), and

90 Max Weber’s Family History there was soon established a regular pattern of visits and family hol- idays between Frankfurt, Denmark Hill in London, and Heidelberg. The ‘Max Weber Haus’, a grand residence on Ziegelhäuser Land- strasse, was built in 1847 by Georg Friedrich Fallenstein using his sec- ond wife’s income. Emilie Fallenstein was a daughter of Carl Souchay. She inherited a large income on the death of her father in 1835 and this income further increased with the growth of the family firm. She made regular payments to her children, so that her sons-in-law Max Weber sen. and Hermann Baumgarten earned less in their posts as local Stadtrat and polytechnic lecturer respectively than the allow- ance given to their wives. On the death of Emilie Fallenstein this income was inherited directly by the Fallenstein children. The other family business which Roth researches was the Bielefeld linen firm of Weber, Laer & Niemann. Although the letter and document trail is not nearly as extensive as for the Frankfurt enterprise Roth, with the help of local informants, establishes the basic facts of business formation. Max Weber jun.’s grandfather on his father’s side was one of the original partners. The Bielefeld busi- ness faced up to the problem of cheaper English imports not by set- ting up an exporting business in Lancashire, but by dissolving the old firm and its traditional outsourcing of linen weaving and spinning. Weber’s uncle Karl David Weber moved the whole business out of Bielefeld in Westphalia to Oerlinghausen in Lippe. There he was free of Prussian military service, allowing him to devote all his time to the new business—a significant shift in what being bürgerlich was. He also recruited the unemployed weavers and spinners in the district to work in the new geschlossen factory—no easy coming and going of cottagers bringing in their product to be processed, but industrial work and discipline, concentrated in one imposingly closed building. Max Weber was very impressed by this example of ditching the old traditional ways of production in favour of rationality and an increased tempo of work. The Oerlinghausen firm made it into the Protestant Ethic and Spirit of Capitalism as case-study material. The Souchay enterprises were not so honoured. Roth thinks this was because Protestant virtues were not being concentrated on produc- tion and saving but speculation and the ‘good life’, even though the Souchays were descended from Huguenots. The extended family business of Souchay, Mylius et al. did receive a semi-humorous men- tion in Economy and Society, as an example of family communism—

91 Book Reviews each partner received income from the business according to his fam- ily size and need, so entering the ‘ “realm of equality and brother- hood” ‘ (Economy and Society, p. 360). This picture is slightly fanciful, since the Souchays quickly cut loose partners who had made specu- lations that had gone wrong, and shunned sons who showed no apti- tude; on the whole, though, the risk and return aspects of the busi- ness were tempered by an ethical sense of welfare for all family rela- tives. The Oerlinghausen business effectively made Marianne Weber, who was the granddaughter of Karl David, an heiress with her own income. These facts are established on page 550 of Roth’s book, at which point the biographical tempo of Max and Marianne’s life picks up. Obviously the book has been in no hurry to reach this point and there is a fairly clear distinction, one feels, between family history and biography. As already noted, the book stands in its own right as an incredibly rich documentation of ‘the forms of the bourgeois, entrepreneurial family’ over three generations. You can hear the fam- ily members talking to each other—the quarrels, insecurities, achievement, aspirations, beliefs, disappointments, and partly smothered family scandals. This is a remarkable achievement and resource. What does this long pre-history add to the intellectual biography of Max Weber? Well, it is an indispensable source for reference and chronology, but there are interpretative problems in the linking of life to work. Weber, as a sociologist, dealt with ideal types, which by their nature are a kind of hermetic mental operation. They carry only mysterious traces of their origin. One cannot say with certainty that the reference to family communism had Souchay in mind. Likewise Roth devotes a chapter to the Unitarian religious influences that were relayed by the most interesting figure of Frederick William Robertson. God’s purpose, the afterlife, and the fate of children who died in infancy became a burning topic of conversation among the Fallenstein sisters. Stationed in Strassburg for his military service, the young Max Weber conversed with his aunt Ida Baumgarten about these themes. Weber, it also appears, used to attend church to listen to Otto Baumgarten’s sermons, which were then discussed after- wards by the family who assessed their success. In a general sense the raw material of suffering and how religions assuage such ideal needs were all part of his sociology of religion. But Weber compared

92 Max Weber’s Family History world religions and that was an intellectual and wholly unsentimen- tal enterprise. Despite the extent of his religious upbringing, little trace of it was left on his soul. Roth’s answer to this question is that the Anglo as well as the American influences that were part of the back-drop of family life represented a cosmopolitan outlook, without which Max Weber’s burning interest in English and American Puritanism might not have occurred. If the Protestant Ethic and Spirit of Capitalism is thought of as a collection of case-studies, alongside the German Pietists, the major- ity of the sects described are English and American. German Luther- anism is quickly dismissed by Weber as an establishment church. It obviously was of some consequence that a friend of Weber’s father, Friedrich Kapp, who was a railway speculator in North America, pressed the compact, square volume of Benjamin Franklin’s autobi- ography into the twelve-year-old Max’s hands. Roth also makes the point that Marianne’s biography of her husband, published in 1926, deliberately played down the visits to England (in 1893, 1895, and 1910) and Weber’s obvious interest and knowledge of Shakespeare, Milton, and matters English. Politically, culturally, and economically the Anglo-American Puritan experience affected Weber profoundly, and the roots of this tendency are to be found in the family’s cos- mopolitanism. Had Weber been exposed in his family upbringing solely to the wealthy but provincial lifestyle of Bielefeld, he would never have developed into the author he became. One of Roth’s arguments is that this was Marianne Weber’s expe- rience, and that it marked out her nationalism as far more unques- tioning and inward-looking than her husband’s. Roth states his the- sis of cosmopolitan nationalism in the opening chapter. This is the thread running throughout the book. Weber’s nationalism existed within an understanding of the international and cosmopolitan nature of markets and capital movements (as the volume of the Max Weber Gesamtausgabe on Die Börse, edited by Knut Borchardt, amply demonstrates). In his political writings Weber was consistent- ly against any movement toward economic autarky. In the war his nationalism was tempered by the realization that if Germany really did want a place in the sun it would have to achieve this as a nation freely competing in the no less agonistic struggle for economic sur- vival. He dismissed the idea of an inland economic empire in the East. His vehement opposition to unrestricted submarine warfare

93 Book Reviews foresaw the political-economic consequence of peace, and in his mil- itary assessment, it seems to me, Weber might well have been biased towards America. Weber, argues Roth, was a market realist and never, like so many of his academic contemporaries, an anti-capital- ist. Like his Souchay forebears, he willed a nation-state congruent with an internationalist enterprise outlook, his model being the English ‘night-watchman’ state. Roth does not go so far as to say that Weber was an anti-nationalist nationalist. Roth’s argument should probably be read as an implicit critique of Wolfgang J. Mommsen’s presentation of Weber—certainly Mommsen has taken it to be a cri- tique. (This can be followed up in Max Weber Studies, 2001, 3/1, which carries Mommsen’s review.) I will not comment on this poten- tial debate, one triggered by Roth’s suggestion that Mommsen has fundamentally misunderstood the nature (and roots) of Weber’s nationalism. Instead I will raise an objection to which I think the whole drift of Roth’s argument is vulnerable, or at least, answerable. In 1893 Weber told his audience of the Verein für Sozialpolitik that ‘tremendous illusions had been necessary to create the German Reich’. Weber was warning his educated audience to ‘wise up’ and not be taken in too much by the Bismarckian rhetoric of blood and iron. Equally, though, for Weber the unification of Germany under the Prussian kingdom and its concomitant constitution was a neces- sary part of what is now called nation-building. This was the realiza- tion of a family dream that can be traced back to the Souchays. Roth argues that Weber’s political Anglophilia was based on the English Puritan revolution and its ability to produce unimpeachable leaders whose ultimate values were governed by conscience, for example, Oliver Cromwell and Gladstone. Germany, to Weber’s ever more vocal chagrin, got hoisted with Junkerdom instead. But, to repeat, the family dream was always a Germany that would be led by a Prot- estant Prussia. The illusion they harboured, though, was to think that this would be democratic and that Protestant Prussianism would be Puritan in the sense desired by Max Weber. The long history of the Weber family—and Roth’s book perfectly underscores Germany’s politically long nineteenth century with this family memoir—is a his- tory of illusions and corresponding disappointments. Without getting too vexatious, an outsider might opine that while the mill workers of Lancashire were well accustomed to keeping the bourgeoisie in the style to which they were growing accustomed, it

94 Max Weber’s Family History would not have been entirely comprehensible to them that the Souchay wealth was effectively used to subsidize a pro-Prussian pressure group in the Catholic south-west German states. Fallenstein, on the basis of his second wife’s money, not only built the villa on the Neckar but founded a political cell to proselytize for a national revo- lution and a kleindeutsch solution for German state unification. Some of the kleindeutsch propaganda was funded by the Prussian Press Office, Hermann Baumgarten being one of its recipients. While Souchay built a family firm, Fallenstein provided the base for a polit- ical circle, not a political dynasty on the scale of the Bassermanns of Mannheim, but nevertheless a family committed to the new Öffent- lichkeit of liberal discourse. One of his daughters married Julius Jolly who became the leading official in Baden’s government and continu- ally advocated a pro-Prussian policy. His daughter Ida married Hermann Baumgarten, an excitable and over-enthusiastic propagan- dist for the Prussian cause. Baumgarten drew Max Weber sen. into politics, and after the publication of Baumgarten’s autocritique of lib- eral idealism that committed itself wholeheartedly to Bismarckian Realpolitik (a phrase coined by his friend von Rochau) both Baumgarten and Weber, as National Liberals, declared for Bismarck. Marianne Weber in her grandiose biography quite rightly adverts to Fallenstein’s indomitable spirit in creating the cultural nation of the German people at a time (1813 onwards) when no such notion was accepted (outside the student associations or Burschenschaften). Another of the Fallenstein sisters had the misfortune to marry the theologian Adolf Hausrath. Hausrath was politically conservative and a staunch and unbending supporter of Treitschke, even after the Weber family in Berlin had cut their old liberal comrade for his pub- lic anti-Semitic stance. Fallenstein died disillusioned with the direc- tion of Prussian politics, while Baumgarten became an apostate, accusing the Junkers (incongruously) of falling short of the high moral standards demanded by Protestantism. The whole defence of Prussian leadership was an argument in favour of rationality, moder- nity, and moral rectitude; likewise, the whole condemnation of the Catholic political state was made in terms of its unmodernity, lack of clarity, and latent failure to achieve territorial integrity. The only true Anglophile cosmopolitan in the whole of this fami- ly history, I would say, was the historian Gervinus, who was arrest- ed for treason in Baden in 1853 for publishing a book which suggest-

95 Book Reviews ed that, despite the failures and disappointments of the revolutions of 1848, democracy was the inevitable future in a mass society. Until his death he remained an unrelenting critic of Bismarck’s corruption of the Frankfurt national revolution, which under Gervinus’s guid- ance had spelt out the seven basic Grundrechte for political reform. Gervinus, who was given a flat in the Fallenstein residence, does not become a central figure in Roth’s narrative, where so-called Puritan virtues remain the leitmotiv. To follow this argument ad absurdum, Prussian leadership in its centralization of power and authority would be akin to seventeenth-century England. The sociological argu- ment of which Roth needs to take more account is that nation- and state-building have been widely shown to follow some pretty harsh logics, whereby not only is power monopolized, but confession is unified and traditional pluralism (including language pluralism) is disbanded. The Prussian circle that Fallenstein founded in cosmopol- itan Heidelberg was, in historical-sociological terms, merely articu- lating the dominant logics of nation-building. Even the Anglophile Gervinus recognized the logic of the territorial state. He argued in the Paulskirche that Prussia was the only state that could stop the French using the Rhine states as a front door into German politics, and that any union with Austria was to invite the Tsar to the constitutional table. Max Weber might well have hankered after the magical combina- tion of ‘imperium and libertas’, but he was well and truly caught in the political contradictions experienced by two previous generations of his family. His father, as Roth shows in a path-breaking chapter, became a career politician, loyalty and hard work replacing ideolog- ical conviction, though he did have some reservations about Bismarck’s policies. His son was never a politician, so was saved the dilemma, and instead, political analysis and sociology were given the ultimate of realist definitions of the state: ‘the legitimate monopoly of violence’ within a bounded territory. The main emphasis of Weber’s political sociology is the development of the modern state, with nationalism playing a more subsidiary role. Roth does reveal the contradictions between aspiration and reali- ty. Hermann Baumgarten became the Rektor of the new German uni- versity in Strasburg. His mission was to win back Alsace to its Protestant past. Baumgarten indulged in slightly lunatic counterfac- tuals as a historian (had the Emperor Charles V not been a Catholic,

96 Max Weber’s Family History then the Burgundian empire etc. etc.), and his mission was compro- mised by the military overlordship of the province that was in charge of a militaristic dunderhead called Fabricius. Roth follows the graph of rising misgivings charted in Ida Baumgarten’s letters to her sisters. She quickly realized just what a bloody war the Franco-Prussian war was and soon found it hard to reconcile her religious beliefs with her husband’s patriotic war sermon on 17 July 1870. Next to the goal of security in the face of French arrogance, preached Baumgarten, stood the pressing task of ethical self-purification through the conscious grasp of German-being and the clarification of the German sensibili- ty. He ended his sermon with a prayer that from the heat of battle ‘we emerge as new people, not least as better Germans’. Similarly, the chapter on Eduard Souchay repays further study. Eduard was the son of Carl, stayed in Frankfurt and became a city senator. His preference for a kleindeutsch solution was tempered by Frankfurt’s recently lost tradition as a Free City. On the Schleswig- Holstein war of 1863 he said: ‘King William with his von der Heydt, von Roon and Bismarck has taken on a Junker regiment and has turned the constitution into a lie.’ ‘When we tied ourselves to a Prussian led Germany we thought of it as a legal state, it has become a robber state.’ The occupation of Frankfurt by Prussian troops in 1866 and their boorish behaviour was also a cause of major friction between Heidelberg and Frankfurt families, and Roth presents a humorous vignette of the wives forming a compact before tea that they will not allow the men to talk politics at the table. If a politically con- scious yet economically independent position is to be found anywhere, it is among the Frankfurt merchants—in favour of a progressive North German customs union yet alert to the dangers of Prussian predominance, and possessive of confessional and legal pluralism. Finally, we must return to the biography of Max and Marianne Weber, where Roth provides new information on the early years of their relationship. He tends to steer clear of characterization, allow- ing an event to materialize out of the various angles from which it is described in the copious family correspondence. One such event was the engagement and marriage of Max and Marianne. Max was gen- erally thought to be in love with his cousin Emmy, one of the Baumgarten daughters. But for years he did nothing to progress the relationship and it was only when Marianne and Max became engaged that the connection was unscrambled with difficulty, not

97 Book Reviews least through the intervention of Emmy’s brother Otto. He gave a speech at the wedding celebrations, noting afterwards to his sister how much he could but must not touch upon. After his speech he sat down to a frosty silence and grandfather Karl Weber had to re-com- mence the jollities. Otto also forewarned Marianne just what a com- plicated personality Max was. Marianne Weber was an heiress, and so approved of by Max Weber sen., who took a dim view of his son’s tardiness in finding paid employment. Marianne was head-strong, full of energy and ambition and, truth to tell, still something of a tomboy from her days in Lemgo where, until the age of fifteen she had been allowed to wan- der the town by herself. Roth has her as a höhere Tochter who was sent to the Charlottenburg household where she met the höhere Sohn Max. Their behaviour as an engaged couple caused a degree of comment in the family. They would sit next to each other in the garden, Max with his head in an article and Marianne adding up the results of the farm-workers’ survey. The thirteen-year-old Lili observed that her other cousins who were engaged did much more kissing than Max and Marianne. Misgivings abounded. Helene went to Oerlinghausen to enquire whether Marianne’s extreme excitability was connected to the neuroticism of her Schnitger relatives. Marianne was cross-exam- ined about Max by the Weber aunts in Oerlinghausen. A honeymoon badly organized by Max followed, about which there is little evi- dence. Afterwards in Berlin Max got into the habit of working until two or three in the morning each night. Whatever it was Max and Marianne compacted in their engagement and marriage, it finally came unstuck when Max was admitted to a clinic in Constance in the summer of 1898. From there he wrote: ‘I can say like John Gabriel Borkmann, “An icy hand has released me”, since my abnormalities have expressed themselves in a desperate attachment to scientific work over the past years, like a talisman – but what against I could not say.’ Roth signs off their marriage with this, on Weber’s part, self- serving statement. It could be added that in matters conjugal, it was an icy hand that held Max Weber’s genitals. Space does not permit further review, but other topics which Roth goes into, as always intensively, include the Bunge family enterprise in Antwerp that built up an international trading empire in South America. The Bunges still remain one of Europe’s richest families. The Bunges and the Fallensteins were linked through intermarriage.

98 Max Weber’s Family History

The composer, Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy, married a Souchay granddaughter, Cécile Jeanreneaud. Mendelssohn’s frequent visits to England operated within the circuit of the English denizens of the extended family and the delights of drawing-room music-making. Another Souchay daughter married Robert Freiherr von Ballhausen who became a minister in the ‘Bismarckstaat’. Roth also outlines Helene Weber’s involvement in the Evangelical-Social movement, a clear and charitable beneficiary of those satanic mills and chemical plants. One chapter documents the Berlin Webers’ links to the rail- way capitalists of North America. Another chapter documents the currents of anti-Semitism and philo-Semitism. A final chapter deals with Marianne Weber’s leading role in the women’s movement, her radicalism fostered by her knowledge of the legal inequalities within marriage experienced by the Fallenstein sisters (and, interestingly, Max had a special contract drawn up to equalize his position with Marianne’s in their marriage), the close personal attachments she came to develop with a number of women, and the rising melancholy of her life in the inter-war years. Any final assessment of this volume has to be ambivalent. German-reading social scientists will be frustrated by Roth’s reluc- tance to enter into clearly articulated problematics concerning the family enterprise, the forms of the family, gender issues, and the reproduction of social class through the possession of cultural capi- tal. Roth exemplifies in this work Weber’s epistemological split between theory, which is pure and clear, and concrete reality, which is endlessly complex and intractably messy. As a primary source, however, Roth’s achievement is epic. He has not only mastered the intricacies of family narrative, he has practically brought the archive out with him; lesser mortals would have died in there. While estab- lishing the very large matter of Weber family genealogy, the book stops well short of being a clarifying biography of Max Weber. Weber was a generational recipient of a set of arguments and contradictions that had grown ever more complex. The wonder is that he became the outstanding sociologist of the twentieth century—ever a profes- sion for outsiders. Max Weber became an outsider through infirmity and by dint of personality rather than circumstance, when through family networks he could have become the insider’s insider. Roth has given us the luxus and pathos of the nineteenth-century Bürgertum. All we now require is the full story of the pathos of Max

99 Book Reviews and Marianne’s lives. One says that with some trepidation, and it is quite interesting to read what Roth has to say about the writing of Marianne’s Lebensbild. She turned to Karl Jaspers for help and this perhaps explains the uplifting, reverential tone of the biography, which did undoubtedly capture the habitus of an authentic Kultur- träger as, indeed, does Roth’s own volume for the Ahnen. For a mod- ern psychological biography, she should have called for Stefan Zweig—but that would be to unleash the ferocious spirits that the Lebensbild put, so comprehensively, to rest.

SAM WHIMSTER is Reader in Sociology at London Metropolitan University. He is the co-editor of Max Weber Studies and his Essential Weber will appear in 2003. He is currently organizing a conference for June 2004 to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the original publica- tion of The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism. The conference, to be held at Toynbee Hall, will debate Weber’s essay in relation to the Anglo and American histories of religion, power, and capitalism and their futures.

100 OLAF BLASCHKE (ed.), Konfessionen im Konflikt: Das zweite konfes- sionelle Zeitalter zwischen 1800 und 1970 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck und Ruprecht, 2002), 356 pp. ISBN 3 525 36254 4. EUR 34.77

‘Not a confessional age but an age of confessionalism’, Kant might have said. In 1784 Kant posed the question of whether he lived in a an ‘Enlightened age’ and, as is well known, answered ‘No’. Ignor- ance and superstition still trapped people in their self-imposed nonage and rendered them ‘incapable of correctly using their reason in religious matters’. ‘We do’, however, ‘live in an age of Enlighten- ment’, Kant conceded. There was thus a difference between the adjec- tive that defined the age and the nominative that proclaimed Enlightenment as an important part of the age. Kant lived in a world of widespread illiteracy in which religious prejudice predominated over cosmopolitan openness. Lessing’s Nathan der Weise, staged for the first time in Berlin the year before, was, after all, not a report on the state of things, but a plea. Olaf Blaschke has now edited a volume on what he calls Ger- many’s ‘second confessional age’, which he dates to between 1800 and 1970. The thesis first appeared in an article in Geschichte und Gesellschaft in 2000 and, as sometimes occurs in the self-referential world of German social history, has attracted considerable attention. It now provides the organizing principle for a series of essays edited by Olaf Blaschke, entitled Konfessionen im Konflikt. The volume, a use- ful addition to the scholarship, now into its second decade, on nine- teenth- and twentieth-century religious conflict, contains a number of interesting essays, some of which are quite good. Helga Schnabel-Schüle argues that the confessionalization para- digm is not only the key to the period between the Peace of Augsburg and the Peace of Westphalia but also to the subsequent century and a half. If we accept her thesis, and that of Blaschke as well, we would need to redefine the modern age as a confessional age. In an essay entitled ‘Das 19. Jahrhundert als “zweites Konfessionelles Zeitalter”?’, Martin Friedrich offers some caveats from the standpoint of a Prot- estant theologian. Mainly, he is concerned that the differentiations within Protestantism are obscured by a thesis that portrays German Protestantism as a united front. The problem is compounded, accord- ing to Friedrich, by the practice of drawing most of the evidence for the ‘second confessional age’ from the history of ultramontane

101 Book Reviews

Catholicism. How Jews fit into this paradigm also remains unclear, according to Friedrich. But his is a polite essay. In the end, Blaschke’s thesis remains valuable as a provocation to further thought, not least because it is critical of the secularization thesis, which Friedrich and other authors in this volume seem to think holds the field. Indeed, this is exactly how the next essay, Manuel Frey’s ‘Tole- ranz und Selektion: Konfessionelle Signaturen zwischen 1770 und 1830’ begins: ‘Among historians the thesis of progressive seculariza- tion in the “bourgeois age” is widespread’ (p. 113). Although this essay appeared in 2002, the author cites as support for his contention volume five of Geschichtliche Grundbegriffe, published in 1984, and the first volume of Hans-Ulrich Wehler’s Gesellschaftsgeschichte, pub- lished in 1987. Frey shows, sometimes in humorous detail, how expo- nents of Enlightenment confounded confessional and physiognomic imaginings, and how ‘Enlightened’ ideas of what Catholics and Protestants looked like continued to have salience in the nineteenth century. His is a fine essay. So too is Siegfried Weichlein’s ‘Der Apo- stel der Deutschen: Die konfessionspolitische Konstruktion des Boni- fatius im 19. Jahrhundert’. In telling detail, Weichlein shows how rev- erence for Boniface shifted from an inter-confessional model of virtue at the beginning of the nineteenth century to an object of confession- al polemic in the period following the Cologne Troubles of 1837, dur- ing the revolution of 1848, and again at the time of the Kulturkampf. While tying Boniface to the German national identity of German Catholics, Weichlein also demonstrates how the confessional dimen- sion of the politics of the nineteenth century waxed and waned. The essay that is potentially most critical of the ‘second confes- sional age’ thesis is Tobias Dietrich’s ‘Konfessionelle Gegnerschaft im Dorf im 19. Jahrhundert’. In the village one would expect the walls of confession to be especially solid. Dietrich reveals, however, that life in the countryside was marked by myriad pressures to co-operate, negotiate, and arrange oneself with those across the ‘invisible border’ (Etienne François) of confession. This is a salutary insight, for it starts with the fact, widely acknowledged by scholars, of deep confession- al division, and examines its modalities and limits. Similarly, Till- mann Bendikowski betrays a critical sensitivity for the limits of the confession-explains-all paradigm. Interfaith marriages, he argues, point as much to the Protestant/Catholic division as to other cultur- al barriers that hindered personal relations, not least barriers

102 Confessionalism in Germany, 1800–1970 between believers and agnostics. He also gives us a rough sense of the long-term trajectory of interfaith marriages: close to 4 per cent in Prussia in the 1840s; 8.5 per cent in 1900; 15 per cent for Germany in the Weimar Republic; 25 per cent in the Federal Republic of 1950; and more than a third in the 1980s. When one combines these figures with a sense for religious geography (that Protestants tended to live in Protestant areas, Catholics in Catholic), the walls of confession seem increasingly less imposing. This is the conclusion of Manfred Kittel’s guarded but for that rea- son useful survey of the social history of confessional division in the Weimar Republic. As the history of Weimar has been less influenced by new research on confessional conflict than other periods of mod- ern German history, his survey constitutes a helpful start. He never- theless reminds readers (who now obviously need such reminding) that ‘the tension between the confessions was not the most impor- tant, and certainly not the only theme, that marked the political fronts in the society of the Weimar Republic’ (p. 295). Following the pioneering work of Wolfgang Altgeld (who here and in other essays is underrepresented in the notes), Kittel emphasizes the confluence between Protestantism and nationalism as an important factor in the confessional tension that continued to mark and mar the politics of Weimar. A similar approach is taken by Thomas Fendel, who argues that confessional borders were still important to public reactions to Nazism, though he mainly considers the first six years of the regime and draws most of his insights from a comparative examination of priests and pastors. In what seems like an old story, the Catholic milieu put up more Resistenz. The collection ends with an essay by Wilhelm Damberg on the Catholic milieu in the post-war era, which not so much collapsed as underwent inner pluralization. The essays in this volume are well written and generally illumi- nating. Scholars of religion and of popular mentalities should cer- tainly consult them. But in the case of this volume, the whole is less than the sum of its parts. Like a house perched on shaky pillars, it rests on an untenable thesis that distorts the evidence. Blaschke’s the- sis of a second confessional age was originally conceived as an ac- count of the nineteenth century. It is here stretched out to cover much of the twentieth century as well. He begins with the premiss that his- torians of the modern period have overlooked religion and religious conflict. The premiss is incorrect. Blaschke overlooks, or does not

103 Book Reviews consider sufficiently central, a great deal of research already con- ducted. He either desists from adequately citing, or seems to be unaware of, much less prepared to grapple with, the work of schol- ars such as Wolfgang Altgeld, Etienne François, Jonathan Sperber, Lucian Hoelscher, Werner Blessing, David Blackbourn, Dagmar Herzog, Antonius Liedhegener, Chris Clark, and myself. Some schol- ars in the field, such as Margaret L. Anderson, are addressed only in passing, mainly because they have already criticized the confession- alization paradigm. Blaschke also ignores the work of what might be called a second wave of scholarship on confessional division—the excellent essays, for example, of Michael Gross or George Williamson. If one ignores this considerable body of work, it is possible to claim that historians (a) still work within the secularization paradigm, and (b) do not consider religious division seriously. The second problem derives from the first. Since Blaschke does not consider the specific arguments of much of the scholarship, his para- digm is, for want of a better word, lazy. He does not, for example, consider François’ thesis about the ritualization of religious conflict in the eighteenth century. Instead Blaschke offers us a rather indis- tinct sense of the transition from Enlightened tolerance to nineteenth- century confessionalism. Since Blaschke does not consider Altgeld’s thesis that much of the Protestant-Catholic polemic started with the confluence of Protestantism and German nationalism, he has no reser- vations about tying the start of the polemic to the Cologne Troubles, and thus placing responsibility for it mainly with the Catholics. Because Blaschke only sees Thomas Mergel as having ‘discovered’ the confessional divide for Bürgertumsforschung, he need not bother with Mergel’s claim that in the course of ultramontanization, the urban élite of Rhenish cities was forced to choose between its religious and class affiliations, and that many, if not most, chose the latter. Because Blaschke does not take sufficient account of Till van Rhaden’s concept of ‘situative identity’, he need not trouble himself with the complicat- ed negotiations that Jews (as well as Protestants and Catholics) worked out with each other in often pluralistic contexts. And because Blaschke seems unaware of Liedhegener’s thesis about the significantly differ- ent trajectories of Catholicism and Protestantism in Bochum, he can comfortably lump the material of the two religions together. Many more such examples of scholarship brushed over, crasser still in the case of Anglo-American contributions, could be adduced.

104 Confessionalism in Germany, 1800–1970

A third problem concerns method. Blaschke largely locates con- fessional division and conflict in the realm of ideology, and, in lan- guage that borders on moralizing, renders it akin to rank prejudice, referring to its ‘demonic face’. Here one wishes for the influence of cultural history, which starts from the premiss that mentalities that are foreign to us need first to be understood. In fact, in the sound, fury, and smoke of the large confessional thesis, one can easily over- look that no method has been proposed—except for the gathering up of evidence showing the salience of religion. The considerable methodological innovation already extant in the study of religion, especially marked in anthropology, is simply ignored. So too are the four decades of criticism of the modernization theory that underlies Blaschke’s language and argument. Alas, however, neither Clifford Geertz, nor Victor Turner, nor Sherry Ortner is engaged. A fourth problem concerns the relative place of religious division and conflict. There are certainly periods, like the Cologne Troubles and the Kulturkampf, when it was central. But was it central enough to define the age? For social historians who have worked the archives and who have a sense of the relative weight of their material, I think the answer must be no—even for the nineteenth century. Religious differences ran deep, but so too did those of class and gender, a sense of Heimat (sometimes, though not always, shared between Prot- estants and Catholics), and, in the latter part of the nineteenth centu- ry, the pull of nation and nationalism. For the twentieth century, the case is even weaker, as a number of essays in this volume humbly suggest. Moreover, the thesis hardly touches upon the great catastro- phe of the age—the Holocaust, and the connection between confes- sionalism and anti-Semitism is barely considered, let alone systemat- ically explored. But this is precisely where historians need to make connections. The point of considering religious division is to see how it interacts with other divisions in society; it is also to ask how people overcame such divisions, and how they co-operated; it is to probe rituals and routines of confessional arrangement, and to consider the complexi- ties of popular mentalities—and not merely as prejudice. Like a Las Vegas billboard surrounded by lights, Blaschke’s thesis draws atten- tion, but it also obscures the fact that the paradigm has already shift- ed. Rather than re-orientate our focus, his thesis actually distorts the shape of what we know. A more modest and truer formulation

105 Book Reviews would be to call the period ‘not a confessional age but an age of con- fessionalism’.

HELMUT WALSER SMITH is Associate Professor of History at Van- derbilt University. He is the author of German Nationalism and Re- ligious Conflict (1995), co-editor (with Christhard Hoffmann and Werner Bergmann) of Exclusionary Violence: Antisemitic Riots in Modern German History (2002), and has edited Protestants, Catholics and Jews in Germany (2001) and The Holocaust and other Genocides (2002). His most recent book, The Butcher’s Tale: Murder and Anti- Semitism in a German Town (2002), received the Fraenkel Prize in Contemporary History and was listed as an L.A. Times Notable Book of the Year in 2002.

106 BJÖRN BIESTER, Der Innere Beruf zur Wissenschaft: Paul Ruben (1866– 1943). Studien zur deutsch-jüdischen Wissenschaftsgeschichte, Hambur- ger Beiträge zur Wissenschaftsgeschichte, 14 (Berlin: Dietrich Reimer Verlag, 2001), vii + 315 pp. ISBN 3 496 02703 7. EUR 45.00

Wissenschaftsgeschichte, a genre of its own situated at the intersection between the academic understanding of the history of life achieve- ments of great thinkers and the history of their respective academic disciplines, has a far greater following in the English-speaking world than in Germany, Austria, and Switzerland. Although biographies find a wide readership here in the English-speaking world, and are read more as popular entertainment than as scholarly texts in their own right, intellectual biographies do not command such wide acclaim. However, in the last quarter of a century a shift has set in. Critical analysis of history has used the tool of biographies to train its spotlight on material hitherto unknown. The political situation after the Second World War, when large groups of people lost everything and survivors turned to public and private source materials to read up on the history of their family members and friends, doubtlessly contributed to an upsurge in the market for biographical literature. In its wake serious scholars turned to archives and began the laborious task of unearthing data from paper and film records. And what fruitful work it turns out to be in the hand of an aca- demic like Björn Biester, who brings to the task a training in theolo- gy, a love of bibliography, and a keen interest in editing sources. The list of sources consulted reveals a serious occupation with Paul Ruben, the historian of religion who is all but forgotten today. It is the great merit of Biester’s work that it presents Ruben’s life and work in such a masterly, rounded fashion. In his article ‘Das Sekreta- riat Warburg: Eine Oase für die Juden in Hamburg, Oktober 1938 bis Juni 1941’ (Los Angeles, 1975, typescript kept in the Institut für die Geschichte der deutschen Juden, Hamburg), Robert Solmitz paid tribute to Paul Ruben, who tended the plants of scholarship in an ‘oasis’ in Hamburg. The ‘oasis’ was the building which formerly housed the famous Kulturwissenschaftliche Bibliothek Warburg, dedicated to research on intellectual history. Ruben was born into a well-to-do Hamburg Jewish family. After attending the Talmud-Tora school, he went to the academically more rigorous Gelehrtenschule des Johanneums in Hamburg, and from

107 Book Reviews there for one term to Freiburg University to read classical philology before going to Bonn, the ‘Prussian Oxford’ (p. 50). There he was a student of the famous classical philologists of his day, Jacob Bernays, Hermann Usener, and Franz Bücheler. Comparative religion, studies in the history of the politics of religion, early Christianity, Christian apologetics, and critical philology informed the young student. Ruben was an example of a German Bildungsbürger who was Jewish and was proud of being German. He even started a student fraterni- ty for his Jewish friends from Hamburg studying in Bonn, along the lines of a proper Studentenverbindung, using the terminology of Leibbursch and Leibfuchs, the ranks in student fraternities. One member of his circle was Aby Warburg, who read art history at Bonn. Born in the same year as Ruben, Warburg was never in the same class at school, but they knew each other. When Warburg start- ed his art historical studies at Bonn university, it was a matter of course that Ruben took him under his wing, Warburg becoming Ruben’s Leibfuchs. The large corpus of correspondence between Ruben and Warburg, kept in the archive of the Warburg Institute in London and used extensively by Biester, shows a friendship between the two students, who talked about their teachers, their studies, and their lives. Although their points of view differed on matters which had to do with Ruben’s adherence to Jewish practice and its rejection by Warburg, they would continue to discuss issues important to their respective academic disciplines. When Warburg wanted to marry Mary Hertz, a Christian from a Hamburg patrician family, he turned for advice to Ruben about ritual practices to be followed, or not, should the marriage be blessed with children. Ruben, who had remained in touch with Jewish religious traditions and conventions that had been jettisoned by Warburg, acted as confidential adviser and rejected Warburg’s view that circumcision was an act of bar- barism. The common ground shared by Ruben and Warburg through their upbringing allowed them to be lifelong friends. Warburg’s deci- sion to leave the Jewish community and Ruben’s decision against taking up academic work meant that they were not in daily contact with each other, but both knew that they could rely on the other for advice. In 1892 Ruben received his doctorate on the Excerpta ex Theodoto by Clemens of Alexandria, written in Latin and supervised by Hermann Usener. It fused philological investigation with religious

108 Paul Ruben history and Ruben seemed destined for an academic career in studies on textual criticism of the Hebrew Bible. After military service in Karlsruhe, Ruben went to England in 1894 and lived in Cambridge, Oxford, and London until 1907. He pursued his studies on theologi- cal and archaeological topics, gave lectures, and published one arti- cle in Proceedings of the Society of Biblical Archaeology (‘An Oracle of Nahum’, 20, 1898, 173–85), another in Jewish Quarterly Review (‘Forms in the Bible’, 11, 1899, 431–79), and entries in the Hebräisches und Ara- mäisches Handwörterbuch über das Alte Testament (edited by Heinrich Zimmer and Ernst Buhl, 1905). After the break-up of his marriage to an English woman, he returned to Hamburg and led the life of a private scholar, living on his private income; he continued with text critical studies. He was in touch with a circle of scholars interested in comparative religion, among them many who also used the Kulturwissenschaftliche Biblio- thek Warburg. He himself never gave a lecture in the KBW, or wrote for the prestigious series of ‘Vorträge’ or ‘Studien’ published by the KBW. Ruben stayed in the background, but remained in contact with Warburg and later with Warburg’s successor Fritz Saxl and his deputy Gertrud Bing. After the relocation of the Kulturwissenschaft- liche Bibliothek Warburg from Hamburg to London in 1933, Ruben was employed to look after the Hamburg building, the incoming mail, and to liaise with the staff in London on book orders etc. When he lost his home and finally thought about emigrating, it was too late. The Second World War had broken out and Ruben was trapped. He died in Hamburg, a few days before he was due to be transported to the concentration camp Theresienstadt. The paucity of Ruben’s publications might have been the reason for his relative obscurity among his contemporaries. The issue of why he lacked the drive and motivation to establish himself in the field of teaching and writing is tackled with sensitivity by Biester. When Rubens wanted to publish his life’s opus magnum, Recensio und Restitutio, it was too late for a Jewish scholar to find a publisher in Germany. The research was published by Probsthain in London in 1937, in a very small edition of 100 mimeographed copies. Ruben had selected passages in the Hebrew Bible, foremost Psalm 139 and Isaiah, and examined them in the light of textual criticism. He want- ed to peel off the later accretions to texts in order to arrive at the orig- inal texts, free from corrupting redactions—something which is de

109 Book Reviews rigueur in modern, post-war biblical exegesis. It is not so much a the- ological or philosophical investigation as a demonstration of the need to go back to the sources. He was convinced that without sound philological investigation these texts could not be understood prop- erly. Many chapters remain fragments, there is no index or table of contents, addenda follow addenda—in short, it is not an easy read. That such a piece of research was difficult to publish is borne out by the tortuous history of its publication. Ruben’s entire personal pos- sessions were probably destroyed during the air raids on Hamburg. The correspondence kept in the Warburg Institute in London is with- out doubt the most extensive holding of Ruben papers. This is a stroke of luck for Ruben scholarship as much as for Warburg schol- arship, as they allow an insight into Warburg’s understanding of the Jewish religion. Their exchange of ideas on comparative religion, philology, and philosophy were important to both scholars. Biester presents a very readable personal biography of Ruben, with an intellectual appraisal of Ruben’s scholarship and an immac- ulately edited selection of his correspondence. Based on Biester’s Ph.D. thesis, it happily translates into a book for a wider readership. The tensions experienced by a large number of German-Jewish schol- ars, their lack of employment prospects, and their devotion to the German state are well documented by a number of intellectual histo- ries. What is rare in this genre and what Biester has achieved so very satisfactorily with this book is a fusion of biography and intellectual history. His cautious language, his weighing up of arguments and lack of arguments obvious in the literature quoted, are evidence of a researcher seeking to be guided by the sources and not foisting his own interpretation on the text. What comes across is a picture of the warp and the weft of Jewish intellectual life in the Kaiserreich and the Weimar Republic, multi-faceted and complicated, and not easily cat- egorized. Why should one consider Ruben’s life and life’s work in 2003? The academic relevance of Recensio und Restitutio has largely been superseded, but the tenacity with which this Hamburg scholar pur- sued his studies against all terrible odds, is an inspiration to scholar- ship and provides a fascinating glimpse into academic pursuits in adversity. Ruben did not personify a trend, or a particular career or lifestyle. He is allowed to stand on his own, very often in the back- ground. Through his book Recensio und Restitutio he lives on only in

110 Paul Ruben the footnotes of learned specialist studies. Biester wants his book understood as an attempt to draw attention to the life and life’s work of an eminent scholar who, like so many after 1945, simply faded out of the academic discourse. Björn Biester has achieved this with remarkable honesty.

DOROTHEA MCEWAN is Archivist at the Warburg Institute, Uni- versity of London. She is producing a database abstracting in English the Aby Warburg correspondence, 1873 to 1929, currently at 29,000 letters.

111 KAREN HAGEMANN AND STEFANIE SCHÜLER-SPRINGORUM (eds.), Heimat-Front: Militär und Geschlechterverhältnisse im Zeitalter der Weltkriege, Geschichte und Geschlechter, 35 (Frankfurt am Main: Campus, 2002), 399 pp. ISBN 3 593 36837 4. EURO 45.00

In post-war Germany, most historians have long viewed military his- tory with disdain. In recent years, however, the study of the armed forces has developed into one of the most innovative fields in German historiography. Its new dynamism is the result of the intro- duction of theories and methods from other fields, especially Alltags- geschichte (the history of everyday life) and gender history. In Nov- ember 1997 German historians of gender and the military met for the first time at a conference in Berlin organized jointly by the Zentrum für Interdisziplinäre Frauen- und Geschlechterforschung and the Arbeitskreis Militärgeschichte with the purpose of discussing ‘Militär, Krieg und Geschlechterordnung im historischen Wandel (16. bis 19. Jahrhundert)’. A second conference was held in October 1999, taking the discussion to the ‘Age of World Wars’. Karen Hagemann (Technical University of Berlin), who was involved in organizing both conferences, and Stefanie Schüler-Springorum (Institute for the History of the German Jews in Hamburg) have now published the expanded proceedings of this two-day convention, which involved more than 120 participants from ten different coun- tries. In her introduction, Hagemann defines the volume’s central topic as the tension between gender images and gender relations in the context of military and war. More specifically, the book aims to dis- cuss the ambivalent meaning of gender images and their connection with national, social, racial, and ethnic images of the ‘other’ or the ‘enemy’ in the context of war and military; gender relations and gen- der hierarchies in the military and war; and how wars are experi- enced, viewed, and recalled. Hagemann’s goal is to define a frame- work for the ‘more than overdue’ rewriting of the history of the mil- itary and war in Germany from a gender and society approach. This ambitious aim sits somewhat uneasily with the explicitly stated intention to present to a wider audience the initial results of the rap- idly expanding research on the military, war, and gender in twenti- eth-century German history, for this implies that the rewriting is already in full swing.

112 Military and Gender in the Age of the World Wars

Heimat-Front covers the period from before the First World War to 1955, bound together by an introductory essay on theory at the begin- ning and a selective bibliography at the end. The fifteen case studies are extremely well organized, each presenting a guiding thesis and a statement on sources at the beginning, and a short résumé at the end. The essays are of reasonable length (between twelve and twenty-five pages, including endnotes), structured by subheadings and, above all, elegantly written. The authors’ prose is clear and so is the point each makes, due to a commendable absence of jargon. After a preface by Wilhelm Deist and Hagemann’s introduction, Ruth Seifert (Regensburg) provides an introduction entitled ‘Identi- tät, Militär und Geschlecht: Zur identitätspolitischen Bedeutung einer kulturellen Konstruktion’. In it, she examines why the military has remained strangely unaffected by the general trend towards gender equality of recent decades. Even at the beginning of the twen- ty-first century the military profession remains an almost exclusively male sphere, and unlike any other institution, the military accepts gender as a natural and given category. The military has kept its hegemonic heterosexual, male gender, making it difficult to imagine the soldier as female, or even as a gay man. Step by step, Seifert dis- misses the arguments commonly used to defend this practice: tradi- tion, supposedly natural inherent differences, and military efficiency. Instead, she suggests, military and manliness are constructed as a pair for other reasons. Stressing that there can be no ultimate expla- nation, she argues that one of the main factors is the close relation- ship between citizens’ rights and military service. The national state genderized all its core institutions, but especially the army. At least at an ideological level, men have to be soldiers and vice versa. In addition, the military as an institution participates in the production of a collective definition of manliness and uses its techniques to trans- mit this normative definition to a large number of male individuals. Because the soldier serves the state, military service creates the notion of a national manliness. The soldier’s body culturally repre- sents the idea of the nation, which in return is structurally linked to manliness. Pre-existing male traits do not predestine men for military service, but military discipline, norms, and ideals are culturally con- structed as male and deeply associated with manliness because only men are allowed to serve. According to Seifert, armies are not only instruments of warfare, but matrixes for the definition and imple-

113 Book Reviews mentation of basic notions about gender, and focal points for the con- struction of genderized identity and hierarchies. Marcus Funck (Berlin) presents the first case study in his essay ‘Bereit zum Krieg? Entwurf und Praxis militärischer Männlichkeit im preußisch-deutschen Offizierkorps vor dem Ersten Weltkrieg’. Funck describes how the social background and professional self-percep- tion of the Prussian officer corps changed dramatically between the founding of the German Empire in 1871 and the outbreak of the First World War in 1914. According to the old aristocratic concept, mili- tary and court service were perceived as identical, and the officer was expected to be as comfortable on the dance floor as on the battlefield. After the turn of the century this notion was stigmatized as ‘weak’, ‘un-manly’, and indicating an ‘un-readiness for war’, and was pushed to the fringes of military society. Two newer concepts applied to offi- cers came to the forefront: ‘inflamed soldiery’ (erhitztes Kriegertum), which promoted a hardened manliness and readiness for war, and ‘cool professionalism’ (kühle Professionalität), which justified a feeling of superiority based on the notion that only officers possessed the expert knowledge required for successful warfare. These three con- cepts of officership and military manliness were not clearly separated from each other. Nor did they appear in chronological succession. Rather, the officer was expected to fulfil them all, and he was increas- ingly less able to do this. Thus the officer became an artificial product hiding a growing sense of insecurity behind a façade which quickly collapsed during the first few months of the war. In his essay ‘Deutsche Kameraden—Slawische Huren: Geschlech- terbilder in den deutschen Feldzeitungen des Ersten Weltkrieges’ Robert L. Nelson (British Columbia) examines how gender images were used in the propaganda of the First World War. He analyses the construction of the image of the ‘German soldier’ and of the concept of ‘comradeship’ in the approximately 115 German army newspapers (Feldzeitungen) produced during the Great War. Nelson then com- pares his findings with the matching and contrasting images of enemy soldiers on the Western and Eastern fronts, of German girls and women on the home-front, and the images of foreign girls and women in the areas occupied by the German army. According to Nelson, the perception of the ‘self’ as well as of the ‘other’ in German army newspapers cannot be separated from the perception of gender. German soldiers always constructed the notion of their own manli-

114 Military and Gender in the Age of the World Wars ness with reference to their own and foreign gender images. The de- mands of modern industrial warfare, which pushed women on the home front into traditionally male roles, were experienced by Ger- man soldiers at the front as threatening the traditional gender hierar- chy and as a crisis of masculinity. While they reassured themselves of their own honour and masculinity in their army newspapers, no such references can be found in French and British army newspapers. According to Nelson, this is because French and British enlisted sol- diers had many fewer doubts about the justification of the war than their German counterparts. Since French and British soldiers and officers were clearly fighting a defensive war against German intrud- ers, their honour and manliness were never in doubt. In her essay ‘Mütterliche Heldinnen und abenteuerliche Mäd- chen: Rotkreuz-Schwestern und Etappenhelferinnen im Ersten Welt- krieg’, Bianca Schönberger (Oxford) compares the images of the two female groups who participated in military experiences of the war in Germany between 1914 and 1918. According to Schönberger, the icon of the Red Cross nurse was generally positively charged. During and after the war the nurses’ voluntary service was accepted as equiva- lent and complementary to the men’s military service and sacrifices. Their nurses’ uniforms, the nature and place of their low-paid work, and the close ties between the Red Cross and the German nobility meant that the more than 25,000 nurses could be placed within the traditional order of pre-war society and existing notions of suitable occupations for females. Normally only upper-middle class and aris- tocratic women could afford to pay for nursing training and to work for low wages afterwards, but the 20,000 Etappenhelferinnen (Women Army Auxiliaries) were mostly lower-middle class, and, to a smaller extent, working class. Their high pay placed a question mark over their motivation, and their resulting financial independence as well as their presence within military areas behind the front in occupied territory threatened the social and gender order. The Etappenhelferin- nen did not become icons, for they did not wear uniform and the mil- itary deliberately kept them out of the spotlight. Initially ignored by the press, they later received only negative coverage, and an unflat- tering image was promoted by male soldiers and representatives of the German women’s movement alike. After the war they were excluded from public memory and were not recalled among those who had served their country during the war.

115 Book Reviews

In ‘Heimfront: Ernährung, Politik und Frauenalltag im Ersten Weltkrieg’, Belinda J. Davis (Rutgers) highlights how, even at the beginning of the war, the problem of supplying the German home front with food changed the relationship between the German people and German state. Instead of serving the state, the people now believed that the state—which accepted this responsibility—should serve them by supplying their basic needs. Davis shows that poor urban women became the key actors on the home front in protesting against the lack of food and its perceived unfair distribution. Based on their daily experience in wartime Germany, they expressed demands which they perceived as eminently political, and which were recognized as such. Supported by the middle classes, lower- class urban women acquired an unprecedented political significance of their own because their demands were accepted as legitimate and their public image as ‘soldiers of the home-front’ (p. 140) was increas- ingly positive. By 1918, the women on the streets had lost all belief that the government would be able to fulfil its promises. Their increasingly desperate and violent protests were as important for the start of the revolution in November 1918 as the actions of sailors and soldiers. The daily struggle, violent interaction, and hate left a legacy that persisted after the war and eased the Nazis’ rise to power, ulti- mately leading to the preferential treatment of the German home front during the Second World War, for which non-Germans in the occupied areas had to pay the price. Christian Koller’s (Zurich) ‘Feind-Bilder: Rassen- und Geschlech- terstereotype in der Kolonialtruppendiskussion Deutschlands und Frankreichs, 1914–23’ concludes the section on the First World War. Koller examines the discussion in Germany and France about the use of non-white French colonial troops in Europe to demonstrate the discursive interaction between racism, sexism, and nationalism. Although images of race and gender changed during this discussion, Koller argues that they were all based on shared stereotypes. In Germany, African soldiers were pictured as bloodthirsty, uncivilized barbarians with an unbridled sex drive, and the French and other Europeans had initially shared this perception. Starting in 1915–16, however, they began to picture their black colonial troops as childlike savages and later, in response to the stepped up hate-campaign in Germany after 1918, even as noble savages. Thus a consensus existed in France and Germany about the Africans’ basic inferiority. Likewise,

116 Military and Gender in the Age of the World Wars the distinction between ‘good’, morally pure women and ‘bad’ women who wanted sexual relationships with the Africans corresponded to nationality. French women who had dealings with African soldiers were pictured as unfaithful nymphomaniacs in Germany, while German women in the same position after 1918 were constructed exclusively as victims. In France, women in contact with colonial sol- diers during the war were pictured as nursing them, while after the war German women were painted as craving sexual relations with the African occupation soldiers. In addition, both African men and white European women were constructed as the antithesis of white men, who represented spirituality, reason, and self-determination. Birthe Kundrus (Oldenburg) opens the section on the inter-war period with her study on ‘Geschlechterkriege: Der Erste Weltkrieg und die Deutung der Geschlechterverhältnisse in der Weimarer Re- publik’. Basing her work on a number of contemporary studies of the state of German society after 1918, Kundrus examines how different groups perceived the impact of the First World War on gender rela- tions. She argues that the war was universally regarded as a land- mark turning point which significantly strengthened the position of women in society. Some contemporaries therefore diagnosed a crisis of gender relations based on the assumption that women had become more confident and independent during the war, while modern war- fare had destroyed the possibility of constructing men as military heroes. Anti-feminists feared a steady rise in female emancipation and a war between the sexes as result of the military conflict. How- ever, some contemporaries thought that the war experience offered new chances for German gender relations in that the men could prof- it from the new self-confidence of women and establish a ‘comrade- ship between the sexes’ (Geschlechterkameradschaft). Such positions, however, were seen by the public and politicians as challenging male dominance in society. The gender policy which was eventually im- plemented and most other visions did not aim to reconstruct pre-war gender relations, but to modify them. The Nazi party in particular needed both men and women for the realization of its core goal, the ‘racially pure people’s community’ (rassenreine Volksgemeinschaft). Kundrus concludes that contemporary Germans overestimated the impact of the First World War, and that instability and violence dur- ing the Weimar Republic were probably more important in prevent- ing the emergence of a new model of gender relations.

117 Book Reviews

Sabine Kienitz’s essay ‘Körper-Beschädigung: Kriegsinvalidität und Männlichkeitskonstruktionen in der Weimarer Republik’ deals with the 2.7 million war-disabled men in inter-war Germany. Their disabled bodies did not live up to the traditional perception of man- liness and triggered a process in which they were described by oth- ers in terms normally reserved for children and women. Rather than being honoured as heroes, they evoked compassion and became objects of female care. The state and abilities of their bodies deter- mined their new place within the gendered social hierarchy and often further damaged their self-perception as men. For example, the war-disabled deeply resented being given ‘women’s work’. They presented their bodies to claim what they perceived as their rights, but society resented such public exposure. Only those who were will- ing to hide their war-torn bodies and to adapt to the new situation could expect symbolic recognition of their service. However, some entered the focus of public attention by displaying state-of-the-art artificial limbs which celebrated German ingenuity. The institution- alized official attention focused solely on the state of the veteran’s body and its remaining capacity for work. Despite their devaluation as men, the war-disabled were confronted with the expectation that they should overcome their handicaps and reintegrate into society as breadwinners for their families. All that was required, according to the state and its medical and technical advisors, was the right equip- ment. While disabled veterans remained invisible in public, their nor- mality was presented and stage-managed in the semi-public work place. Instead of being recognized as victims of war, as they would have preferred, they were celebrated as working heroes. The reinte- gration of invalid men into the workforce was also an attempt to deny women the inroads they had made in many occupations during the war. The ability to work outside the home was constructed as a male norm, and the upgrading only of disabled male bodies with the aid of state-of-the-art engineering was a process of symbolic re-mas- culinization. Ironically, the prosthesis was part of technical progress which rendered traditional forms and notions of masculine work obsolete, making war-disabled veterans agents as well as victims of the mechanization of the 1920s. In ‘Vom Fliegen und Töten: Militärische Männlichkeit in der deut- schen Fliegerliteratur, 1914–39’, Stefanie Schüler-Springorum exam- ines how male pilots came to represent the quintessential military

118 Military and Gender in the Age of the World Wars hero and élitist fighter. She traces the origin of this still widely popu- lar image back to the inter-war ‘aviation literature’ (Fliegerliteratur) and emphasizes that the construction of the flyer-hero (Fliegerheld) was an open process. In the first two years of the war, the few reports written by journalists and pilots lacked pathos and described the ter- rors of aerial warfare. Their perspective was mainly earthbound, while the few existing autobiographies of pilots emphasized the beauty of flying. Only the introduction of single-engine fighter planes and dog- fights in 1916 permitted the construction of the flyer-hero, whose main characteristic was his individuality. Max Immelmann, Manfred von Richthofen, and others quickly became the object of media star cults. The number of victories permitted an ‘objective’ measurement of military success and created a veritable competition among the pilots. Episodes of chivalrous behaviour figured prominently in the literature, but only partly reflected reality. The image of the ‘last knights’ also dominated the aviation literature after 1918, but interest in stories about aerial warfare only revived significantly in 1929. Now the flyers were recreated as ‘German’ heroes, who were even permitted to enjoy killing their opponents. Suddenly they also had sexual contacts with numerous women, while their once prominent mothers disappeared from the literature. In general, the fighter pilots were pictured as depressed, lonely men until 1933, when they were once again reinterpreted, this time as ‘daring’ and ‘reckless’. The time of the individualists was over, for flying was now described as the experience of a small, close-knit group of men. Aerial warfare was not romanticized, but described as hard work that had to be under- taken for the soldiers on the ground. Gliding was popularized as a suitable hobby for boys, while women were restricted to the role of actual or potential mothers who encouraged their sons in this pur- suit. The picture of the male flyer-hero became so entrenched that the existence of a few female pilots, such as Elly Beinhorn, did not seri- ously challenge it. Thomas Kühne (Bielefeld) opens the section on the Second World War with his study of ‘Imaginierte Weiblichkeit und Kriegskamerad- schaft: Geschlechterverwirrung und Geschlechterordnung, 1918–45’. Kühne argues that the imagined ‘femininity’ and the concept of ‘com- radeship’ had not only exclusive, but also inclusive functions for male German soldiers in the Second World War. Constructs of femi- ninity, created by men and embedded in the mythical concept of

119 Book Reviews comradeship, eased symbolic, social, and emotional antagonisms, contradictions, and tensions in a belligerent world, thus making this world bearable for men and women alike. It stabilized the hierarchi- cal gender order and balanced the tension between the masculine, heterosexual ideal of hardness and the softer, sublimated, homosex- ual elements of manliness. Comradeship further served as a symbol- ic link between violence and harmony, between war and peace. It bridged the gap between repression and tenderness within the group, as well as between warfare and atrocities and the peace-time norm of non-violence. It also permitted a symbolic connection between the real family at home, with its ideal of gender-comrade- ship, and the exclusively male military company in the field, which was likewise constructed as a family. Birgit Beck’s (Berne) contribution on ‘Vergewaltigungen: Sexual- delikte von Soldaten vor Militärgerichten der deutschen Wehrmacht, 1939–44’ compares the German army’s punishments for rape on the Eastern and on the Western fronts. While Beck denies that rape was used as a strategy of war by the German armed forces during the Second World War, she shows that the military leadership knew and approved of women being forced into prostitution in army brothels. In addition, the influence of genocidal warfare in the East meant that rape was not uniformly handled by the army’s justice system in the different theatres of war. Concern about the Wehrmacht’s reputation often led to long prison sentences for rapists in France, while very few cases were even reported in the East. Military judges were much more sympathetic to the alleged sexual distress of soldiers on the Eastern front and only handed down long sentences if they consid- ered that the interests or internal discipline of the Army were endan- gered. Beck concludes that the way in which sexual violence was punished by the German armed forces between 1939 and 1944 depended on how it helped or damaged the Wehrmacht as well as on the disposition of the individual judge. In her essay ‘Mittragen—Mitverantworten? Eine Fallstudie zum Hausfrauenalltag im Zweiten Weltkrieg’ Margarete Dörr (Stuttgart/ Heilbronn) uses the recollections of Annelies N. as a case study in how middle-class, non-working women who did not suffer persecu- tion or uprooting experienced everyday life during wartime. She also introduces the voices of numerous other women she had previously interviewed. Dörr relates how Annelies N. tried to secure the basic

120 Military and Gender in the Age of the World Wars necessities for her family during the war, how she and others worried for their husbands, sons, and brothers at the front, and describes the ever-present threat of air raids. Despite all this, women tried to retain some normality for their families amidst the turmoil caused by the war. Even if they did not work in war-related industries, women unconsciously supported the Nazi regime by significantly stabilizing the home front. In addition, they supported their husbands and male relatives at the front by keeping up their morale, and rarely realized that they were dying in a German war of aggression and genocide. At the same time, Annelies N. was so occupied with the challenges of daily life that she had little strength to think about the victims of the Nazi terror at home. However, she protested against the house arrest imposed on a bishop, and helped a friend by acting as a foster parent for the child she had had with a French prisoner of war. The example of Annelies N., Dörr concludes, shows how difficult it is to reduce the multi-faceted behaviour of women during the war to such simplistic categories as ‘victim’, ‘perpetrator’, or ‘opponent’. Elizabeth Harvey (Liverpool) also puts oral history interviews at the centre of her study of ‘Erinnern und Verdrängen: Deutsche Frauen und “Volkstumskampf” im besetzten Polen’. She examines the experiences and recollections of three women who worked in the Reichsgau Wartheland during the war. One was a village teacher, one the head of a nursery, and the third assisted newly resettled Germans in the occupied territory. Harvey describes the diverse dynamic of the three interviews, which were all marked by the individual bi- ographies of the interviewees. She concludes that some young German women saw the opportunity to work in occupied Poland as a welcome chance to display independence and competence, to gain experience, and to see the world while escaping various problems at home. Most probably managed to ignore the consequences of Nazi policy by focusing on their daily work, and did not see themselves as political activists. Susanne zur Nieden (Berlin) opens the volume’s final section on the post-war world with her essay on ‘Erotische Fraternisierung: Der Mythos von der schnellen Kapitulation der deutschen Frauen im Mai 1945’. Zur Nieden wants to explain why so many Germans talked so much and so often about the supposed speed with which German women engaged in sexual relations with American soldiers. She starts by giving some examples from the wide range of different texts

121 Book Reviews in which the stereotype of the ‘Amiliebchen’ was repeatedly repro- duced from the 1940s to the 1990s. In these texts, ‘one cigarette’ became the dominant code for the rapidity with which German women allegedly prostituted themselves to the American soldiers. According to zur Nieden, the fixation on the ‘quick capitulation’ of German women, who allegedly struggled only for five minutes while the German men had fought for six years, served a purpose. It moved the moment of national disgrace and loss of honour to a point after the war, thereby enabling the men to ignore their Nazi past. Men, who now claimed to have fought in defence of their women back home, could use it as a genderized version of the ‘stab in the back’ myth which highlighted their steadfastness in contrast to the quick surrender of the female home front. Fraternization became the sym- bol of a world turned upside down, where moral decay paid off and former slaves became masters. This perception of reality gave the vanquished German men one last chance to imagine themselves in the role of cultural superiors. Irene Stoehr’s essay ‘Kriegsbewältigung und Wiederaufbau- gemeinschaft: Friedensorientierte Frauenpolitik im Nachkriegs- deutschland, 1945–52’ examines the context of ‘female pacifism’ after the Second World War in Germany. Immediately after the war women organized themselves to prevent future military conflicts and promote Germany’s reconstruction. While they felt that the two world wars had been started by men, they were also painfully aware that women had done nothing to stop them. Most of their political organizations tried to remain above partisan politics and to work actively for peace in the world. To achieve a broad base and to make a fresh start, women’s political groups in East and West thought it necessary to integrate former Nazis by focusing on the horrors of a future nuclear war instead of discussing the Nazi period. Under the influence of the Cold War, Western groups began to distance them- selves from Communist groups. They began to link ‘peace’ with ‘free- dom’ and argued in favour of a rational choice and against peace at any cost. In the East, however, the rhetoric of the main women’s organ- ization stressed the links between women, motherhood, and peace, while it gradually became more and more controlled by the SED. The last contribution is written by Frank Biess (San Diego). In ‘Männer des Wiederaufbaus—Wiederaufbau der Männer: Kriegs- heimkehrer in Ost- und Westdeutschland, 1945–55’, Biess examines

122 Military and Gender in the Age of the World Wars the remasculinization of both German societies after the war by focusing on the experience of the prisoners of war returning from Soviet custody. In both Germanies, the returnees were regarded as frozen in a stage between former soldiers and new citizens. In the West, the focus was on their physical, psychological, and sexual problems, and they were constructed as victims whose suffering had redeeming qualities for all Germans. In the East, the focus was on their political and ideological deficiencies, as well as on the apathy of most returnees. Only the re-educated prisoners achieved symbolic importance as models for conversion and reintegration. New ideals of masculinity focused on the man as head of the family in the West, and on men as productive and politically active parts of society in the East. The respective state ideologies of anti-Communism and mili- tant anti-fascism aided the reintegration of the returnees in both Germanies by providing continuity between the past, present, and future. The same function was performed by taking recourse to the idea of a timeless Heimat and to work. The most important aspect of social integration for the returning men was, however, performed by the family. The privatization of the consequences of war left the fam- ilies to deal with the problems of reintegration, which in turn had a lasting impact not only on gender relations, but also on the relation- ship between the generations. It is almost a commonplace that contributions to anthologies usu- ally differ widely in quality. In the case of Heimat-Front, however, this is only partly true. The different essays are all of a very high stan- dard, and some of the contributors are well-known experts in their field. The fact that some, such as Frank Biess and Thomas Kühne, have already presented their findings elsewhere does not diminish the value of the book. The uniform format of the essays is as com- mendable as it is unusual, and facilitates an overview of the wide variety of subjects and different methodologies, theories, and sources used by the different authors. In fact, the book’s strength is that it displays the diversity of research that can be subsumed under the general subject of gender history. For example, Margarete Dörr and Elizabeth Harvey both rely on oral history interviews and are some- times rather cautious in generalizing from their sources. By contrast, Susanne zur Nieden’s contribution is highly speculative and, per- haps for this very reason, one of the most provoking and entertain- ing essays in the book. Robert L. Nelson and Birgit Beck also focus on

123 Book Reviews a single type of source, while Marcus Funk, for example, employs a wide variety in his excellent contribution. Men are the focus of the authors’ research as often as women, and race figures prominently next to gender as an analytical category, as does—to a lesser degree— class. That the authors are sometimes forced to treat certain aspects only in passing, or in rather stereotyped fashion (‘the soldiers’, for example) is inevitable given the relative shortness of the essays. However, Heimat-Front provides an excellent introduction to a fasci- nating and innovative field of research, and the bibliography, which is arranged by topics, further enhances its value in this regard. If one thing is missing, it is more explicit reference to research done in and on other countries, especially the United States, to put the book’s findings into an international perspective. Whether Hagemann and Schüler-Springorum can indeed initiate the rewriting of military his- tory in Germany remains to be seen. However, they have produced an excellent book which will certainly promote co-operation between what Wilhelm Deist in his foreword calls the two ‘sub-disciplines’ of military history and gender history.

MATTHIAS REISS joined the GHIL as a Research Fellow in 2002. He is the author of Die Schwarzen waren unsere Freunde: Deutsche Kriegs- gefangene in der amerikanischen Gesellschaft 1942–1946 (2002), and is currently working on a study of the image of the unemployed in Eng- land and Germany in the twentieth century.

124 KAI ARTINGER, Agonie und Aufklärung: Krieg und Kunst in Großbri- tannien und Deutschland im 1. Weltkrieg (Weimar: Verlag und Daten- bank für Geisteswissenschaften, 2000), 418 pp. ISBN 3 89739 125 2. EUR 42.50

The study of the cultural history of the First World War has grown exponentially in recent years, and in particular the comparative dimension of European scholarship has taken major steps to help dis- solve the national barriers that have dominated the field in the past. Kai Artinger’s study of artists on both sides of the line in the 1914–18 conflict is a major step in that positive direction. Drawing on the work of other scholars in the field, most notably Sue Malvern and Richard Cork, Artinger shows the sharp contrast between the co- optation of British artists by those responsible for the war effort, and a much more hostile engagement between artists and politicians in Germany. Exceptions should be noted, in particular in the circle around Max Weber, as Wolfgang Mommsen has shown, but on bal- ance, the legitimating function of war art in Britain came out of its seeming voluntarism and intelligent commentary on the war from outside the circles of power. This was, to be sure, a conjuring trick, and the limits to what could be painted in British art were made abundantly clear to Nevinson and Orpen when they crossed the line. But the line of officially sanctioned possibilities of expression in the British case was located entirely differently from the parallel location in Germany. The richness of this study lies in the demonstration of this contrast, and in the range of reference to artistic production and exhibition it offers to the reader. London—like Paris and Berlin—was an exhibition centre in wartime, and it was in such exhibitions that signifying practices were displayed. They represented a taxonomy of ‘our’ side versus ‘theirs’, a visualization of a landscape unknown to most viewers, and above all, a window on to a world dominated by loss. Exhibitions hinted at the carnage which hit virtually every household in both Britain and Germany over four years of war. How these exhibitions were run, and to what degree they compensated for the collapse of the art market, which revived only in 1917 and after, are questions that Artinger does not address directly, and much work still must be done on them. But what he has offered is original and powerful. Just one instance will suffice: his discussion of Harry Bateman’s relatively unknown drawing ‘Getting the dead ready for

125 Book Reviews burial’ at Thiepval Wood (pp. 226–7). This drawing is in the holdings of the Imperial War Museum. What better instance of the transfor- mation of the pastoral and romantic into the setting for bereavement, and how sharp the contrast with Otto Dix’s cycle ‘Der Krieg’, dealing with the carnage of the same battle. Only through such sustained and subtle contrasts as those offered by Artinger can we continue to see both the Europeanness of Great War art, and its variants, and there- by to move beyond the centripetal forces still insistently drawing us back to our national histories. War did not respect them, and neither should we.

JAY WINTER is Professor of History at Yale University. His publica- tions include Sites of Memory, Sites of Mourning: The Great War in European Cultural History (1995) and he is at present working on a book on history and memory.

126 ARND BAUERKÄMPER (ed.), Britain and the GDR: Relations and Per- ceptions in a Divided World, Schriftenreihe des Arbeitskreises Deutsche England-Forschung, 48 (Berlin: Philo, 2002), 406 pp. ISBN 3 8257 0296 0. EUR 56.00

Relations between Britain and the GDR were always overshadowed by British–West German and British–Soviet relations. Yet even topics that at first sight do not seem very important are worth investigating because they might cast new light on something that we thought we knew. This is one objective of the volume under review here, which goes back to a conference held in Potsdam in November 2000. Picking up on recent theoretical approaches to international rela- tions, the editor, Arnd Bauerkämper, also hopes ‘to contribute to pro- filing a broad concept of the history of transnational relations that combines “classical” diplomatic history with historical analyses of society’ (p. 33). Thus in addition to political relations and decision- making, ‘cultural processes of appropriation, translation, and ex- change’ are also to be investigated (p. 32). The editor’s intention is not only to find out something new about a subject that has, so far, been rather underexposed, but also to reveal hitherto unknown dimen- sions of the British–East German relationship with the help of new methods. The volume consists of fifteen essays, and is divided into three sections: section I on foreign relations and government action; section II on unofficial relations and contacts between non-official actors; and section III on social perceptions and images. The view from Britain dominates throughout. The perspective of the GDR is taken explicitly only by Henning Hoff, although other authors mention it. And with the exception of the survey essays, the main focus is on relations up to 1973. The period thereafter is dealt with only by Marianne Howarth and John Sandford. The most convincing section is that on the role of the GDR in British politics. To start with Martin McCauley takes us on a quick march through East German–British relations and comes to the sobering conclusion that British policy in the GDR was not crowned by success. As Lothar Kettenacker explains, Britain had been signifi- cantly involved in the creation of the Soviet Zone of Occupation. Within the framework of the European Advisory Commission (EAC), London had worked towards the division of Germany into

127 Book Reviews zones. However, the British government wanted to maintain German unity; its policy did not change until 1945–6, in response to Soviet occupation practice. Only against this background did the deals done by the EAC prove to have ‘crucially set the points for the future’ (p. 79). Yvonne Kipp shows that in the early 1950s Britain wanted to pre- vent the victory of world Communism, but not to drive the Soviet Union out of its spheres of influence. London was totally unprepared for the rising of 17 June 1953 which, mainly because of the demand for reunification, was seen as interfering in Britain’s policy which aimed for the Federal Republic’s ultimate integration into the Western alliance. As early as 1955–6, British diplomats considered a ‘creeping recognition’ of the GDR as almost inevitable (p. 104); by the beginning of the second Berlin crisis the idea of ‘de facto recognition’ found broader support in the Foreign Office and in Whitehall. As Daniel Gossel shows, the Prime Minister and the Foreign Secretary were prepared for this step at that time if it could prevent a third world war. Of course, maintaining the Western alliance took priori- ty. Its cohesion could have been threatened by this concession to East Berlin, and so the GDR continued to be denied recognition. Klaus Larres’s essay on British support for West German non- recognition policy in the Third World and in international organiza- tions does not quite fit into this section. Moreover, he does not offer adequate evidence to support his main thesis that Britain used its influence in its former African and Asian colonies to prevent them from recognizing the GDR. Rather, it was the Hallstein Doctrine com- bined with the Federal Republic’s economic clout that prevented the GDR from making significant breakthroughs in the developing world. In contrast to what Larres writes, the GDR’s attempts in this direction, measured against its own objectives, were anything but ‘quite successful’ (p. 143). Gottfried Niedhart notes that given West Germany’s opening toward the East, British policy was torn between two diverging objectives. On the one hand it considered recognition of the GDR as overdue and, at the beginning of the era of détente it wanted not just to react, but to draw up its own, independent policy, not least in order to secure its trade advantages. On the other hand, the Federal Republic was a NATO ally and potential supporter of Britain’s efforts to gain entry to the European Community. After the change of regime in Bonn in 1969, however, London did not want to fall out with the new government, whose course was in line with

128 Britain and the GDR

British policy anyway. Thus, while the Eastern Treaties were being negotiated, Foreign Secretary Douglas-Home’s maxim applied: ‘And on German questions we cannot go faster than the Federal German Republic’ (pp. 169 f.). Unfortunately there is no essay dealing with the 1970s, so the sec- tion continues with Marianne Howarth writing on British–East German relations during the final decade of the GDR’s existence. At the highest political level, the respective foreign ministers visited each other’s countries, but within the triangle of London–Bonn–East Berlin, the GDR presented ‘neither a major threat nor a major oppor- tunity’ (p. 179). Howarth therefore looks particularly at how the GDR’s image was cultivated by the Britain–GDR Society. Despite internal rivalries, the society was able to expand and had a few iso- lated successes, such as the town-twinning between Manchester and Karl-Marx-Stadt. However, its influence was very small, and did not extend to governing or parliamentary circles. In conclusion, Howarth aptly sums up British perceptions of Germany in the period of unifi- cation: ‘The reformed GDR was apparently unencumbered by the oppressive shades of Germany’s past; however, once reunited with the pro-Western Federal Republic, a monster of German hegemony would be set to dominate and enslave all of Europe’ (p. 195). Henning Hoff makes clear that East Berlin’s expectations in respect of relations with London were unrealistically high in the 1950s. In 1962 the East German Foreign Ministry came to the follow- ing absolutely appropriate conclusion: ‘Basically, relations between the GDR and Britain are influenced by the West German–British relationship’ (p. 281). Unfortunately Hoff does not look at what influ- ence the Soviet Union had on the GDR’s policy towards Britain. On the whole, the GDR’s policy for Britain can largely be described as a failure. East Berlin was unable to persuade London to ignore Bonn’s wishes and establish diplomatic relations until 1973. All that the GDR could do was to draw attention to its existence, and to exploit the prejudices held by parts of the British Labour Party against the Federal Republic, and the interest expressed by British industry in economic exchange. This brings us to the mutual interest in trade which has been men- tioned a number of times. The relevant essay by Raymond Stokes, despite its general title, unfortunately looks only at the importance for the GDR of economic exchange between the two states in the late

129 Book Reviews

1950s and early 1960s. In the 1950s, according to Stokes, ‘trade with Britain . . . emerged as the linchpin of the GDR’s entire economic and technological development strategy’ (p. 328). At that time the GDR was dependent on Britain for the development of its petro-chemical and electronics industries. Stokes suggests that the GDR had the choice of the USA, the Federal Republic, and Britain as a trade part- ner—he does not explain why no other countries were potential can- didates. But even here, all that the GDR was able to achieve was the delivery of plant and equipment for the chemical industry. Britain rejected the GDR’s request for semi-conductors with reference to the COCOM list. Given this background, is it really true to say that in the 1960s Britain became ‘one of the most important foreign trade part- ners of the East German state’ (Bauerkämper in the Introduction, p. 9)? Even if one unquestioningly takes the figures in the GDR Yearbook—as Stokes does—as the basis, then all the Eastern bloc states and the Federal Republic were much more important trade partners for the GDR than Britain. A number of other essays (McCauley, Larres, Niedhart) suggest that British industry and the Board of Trade saw trade with the GDR as offering a great chance. McCauley points out, correctly, that Britain vastly overestimated the GDR’s economic power. An essay on British hopes for trade with the GDR, and their disillusionment in the 1970s, would therefore have been desirable. The volume’s greatest shortcomings become apparent just where the editor would like to feature especially innovative approaches, namely, in the essays on processes of cultural transfer and exchange, and their particular significance for mutual relations. Mario Keßler merely provides biographies of Jürgen Kuczynski and Alfred Meusel, concentrating on their time in British exile. We learn almost nothing about the significance that Britain had for them and for their work in the GDR. Keßler himself notes that Meusel’s experience of exile had no impact on his work as director of the Museum for German History. Thus Bauerkämper’s statement that the experience of exile promoted ‘mutual exchange between the two states’ (p. 9) is not borne out by the relevant essay. The essence of Patrick Major’s highly associative essay on the GDR in the spy novel is that, in con- trast to the highly detailed descriptions of British society, ‘the GDR itself remains rather nebulous’ (p. 348). Thus a mixture of anti- Communist and anti-German or anti-Prussian stereotypes dominate.

130 Britain and the GDR

The processes of exchange between Britain and the GDR were prob- ably too negligible to have had any particular impact on their rela- tionship. Three further essays provide evidence that all areas in relations between Britain and the GDR were to some extent politicized. Stefan Berger and Darren Lilleker provide a good overview of the British Labour Party’s perspective on the GDR until 1973. During this peri- od, some left-wing Labour Party members pleaded the cause of the GDR’s foreign policy, but they had no impact. Merrilyn Thomas investigates the background of a project which organized a group of young British volunteers to work in Dresden for several months in 1965, repairing part of the hospital (Diakonissenkrankenhaus) that had been destroyed during the war. This initiative, organized from Coventry, was seemingly undertaken by the church purely in the service of reconciliation and peace work, but attempts were made to politicize it from the most diverse quarters. Ultimately, Ulbricht and the Stasi saw it as a chance to make the leaders of the Protestant church in Saxony ‘toe the line’, and to convince dissident Christians in the GDR of the benefits of co-operating with the state. Given this politicization, as John Sandford reports, attempts by sections of the British peace movement (European Nuclear Disarmament, END) to establish contact with the independent GDR peace groups in the 1980s had little success. They were obstructed in particular by the GDR’s official peace council and by the East German Ministry for Security. END’s activities climaxed in the publication of the ‘Berliner Appell’, written largely by Rainer Eppelmann, in The Times on 11 May 1983. The GDR’s official peace council, by contrast, tried to establish contact with the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament (CND), which did not focus on human rights as strongly as END. They had no tangible success, however, as CND, despite opposing US policy, was by no means pro-Soviet. Moreover, there was a large degree of overlap in membership between CND and END, and this could not be ignored. When making an overall assessment, it should be remembered that mutual relations were of little significance either for CND or for the GDR peace groups. Thus Bauerkämper’s ambitious objectives are not achieved in this book. There are two main reasons for this. First, relations between Britain and the GDR were too loose, and connections between the two societies too slight for any significant cultural exchange process-

131 Book Reviews es to have taken place. And secondly, the dictatorial structure of the GDR meant that even seemingly unpolitical contacts between people from both states were almost always sucked into the political sphere.

HERMANN WENTKER is Privatdozent at the University of Leipzig and director of the Berlin branch of the Institut für Zeitgeschichte, which deals with GDR history. He is the author of Zerstörung der Großmacht Rußland? Die britischen Kriegsziele im Krimkrieg (1993) and Justiz in der SBZ/DDR 1945–1953: Transformation und Rolle ihrer zen- tralen Institutionen (2001). At present he is working on GDR foreign policy.

132 CONFERENCE REPORTS

Murder and Monarchy: Office and Tyrannicide in Medieval and Early Modern Europe. Conference of the German Historical Institute Lon- don, held at the GHIL, 18–19 October 2002.

Decades ago, a topic such as ‘murder and monarchy’ might have been expected to offer a sensational history of court intrigue or, for those conversant with sociological parlance, of social revolutions. This is no longer the case. One reason is that both medieval and early modern historiography lay much less stress on integrating their respective subjects into received ideas of the path to the present. More dramatically, major assumptions, such as the alleged ‘Germanic ori- gins’ of monarchy or its contribution to ‘state-building’ have either been completely undermined or rendered almost meaningless, given the difficulties we now have with terms such as ‘state-building’ and ‘absolutism’. Many of the pathways to the present were carefully mapped by historians in the nineteenth and first half of the twentieth century, but they have become problematic for understanding the past. Yet history cannot do without narratives tracing change over time. Why, however, investigate the topic of ‘murder and monarchy’? In his True Law of Kingship James Burns rightly reminded his read- ers that while republicanism has long been among the standard top- ics of interest in late medieval and early modern history, monarchy was clearly the most important and relevant form of government at the time. It is attracting even more interest as the alleged modernity of other phenomena, such as Florentine civic republicanism, have themselves come under critical scrutiny in recent years. John Morrill’s and Philip Baker’s approach to the fifteen months between the debates at Putney and the execution of Charles demonstrates the kinds of evidence that historians hope to find in periods as muddled, difficult, and chaotic as those in which monarchs are murdered. The conference on ‘Murder and Monarchy’ set out to test to what extent ‘monarchy’ as a concept allows us to frame comparisons and long- term narratives of change, and what ramifications it could have. Contemporaries from the early Middle Ages onwards identified

133 Conference Reports monarchy as the most important form of government, although they regularly spoke of kingship, kings, and kingdoms, and less often of ‘monarchy’. Contributors to the conference looked at historical situa- tions in which violent attacks on monarchs or members of the monar- chical family were planned, executed, condemned, or justified, and asked to what extent a physical attack—more often than not a gross exception to the reality of rule—sheds light on the nature of monar- chy in a specific period. Indeed, physical assault or the formal execu- tion of a monarch was chosen because, like few other occasions, they provide an opportunity to reflect upon the nature and limits of mon- archy. They also forced other members of society, primarily members of the nobility, to think about their own role and duties in society. By focusing on the alleged ‘breakdown of monarchy’, itself a notion rejected by a number of speakers, the conference attempted to re-examine the state of our knowledge about the working of monar- chy at times when particularly rich sources are available. The various attacks on kings or people with royal blood provided a focus for debating differences and similarities across cases, allowed us to ask questions, and made it possible to reflect on the nature of monarchy. But assumptions of crisis and about the meaning of such crises had to be qualified as the conference and the debate continued. Each con- tribution, with the exception of the last one, assessed such incidents, the arguments about them, and the nature of the monarchy in its period. The ‘long haul’ from the early Middle Ages to the late eigh- teenth-century Prussian monarchy helped to place each case firmly in context, as the enormous changes in the nature and meaning of physical attacks on the monarch or members of his family allowed us to ask questions about the nature of change in the various periods discussed. In a nutshell, with a single highly significant exception, such attacks were explained as defending monarchy against individu- als who had severely compromised its working. As monarchy be- came increasingly important for society because of the services it pro- vided, the containment of the king also became increasingly impor- tant. As the conference proceeded, certain analytical issues recurred, and these will be reviewed at the end of this report. The contributions by Jocelyn Hillgarth (Toronto) and Joachim Ehlers (Berlin) presented the only regicides actually intended to be just that. The frequency and general lack of ex post facto legitimization of these acts was explained by Hillgarth in terms of the lack of an

134 Murder and Monarchy accepted political structure among the Visigoths, and by Joachim Ehlers in terms of the need to establish a monarchy without competi- tors of royal blood within a political unit about to emerge. Once such a political unit had been constructed, the making of monarchy depended on the execution or political disablement (by tonsure) of competitors to the title, and that meant making one line relatively secure by eliminating all others. Both speakers underlined the will- ingness of the Christian Church to condone murder in this context. One cleric encouraged people to act like wolves safeguarding their cubs. Killings were hardly ever explained by the idea of tyrannicide. Ehlers attributed the changes in this situation in later Merovingian and then Carolingian rule to the gradual establishment of more secure lines of succession and a change in the attitude of the Christian church, which began to condemn the use of murder. Jean-Philippe Genet (Paris) continued with examples of regicide in the high Middle Ages. He explained the growth of a highly sophis- ticated arsenal of defence mechanisms for the monarchy, in particu- lar, anointing the king. The person of the king began to be elevated above other members of the nobility, although he remained linked to them via kinship networks. Physical attacks became rare exceptions. In one Neapolitan case, a man who had been charged and found guilty of attacking a royal successor, not even an anointed king, was killed by the crowd—a sign of the new legitimacy that monarchy had achieved. The framework of monarchy had changed so significantly that regicide for the sake of the monarchy had effectively been out- lawed, and so new ways had to be found to remove those who endangered the institution. It is no accident that the twelfth century, when the anointed king became untouchable, witnessed one of the earliest uses of the classical terminology of kingship and tyranny in an argument which transformed it to permit actions against a person pretending to be king—but not against the real king or even the monarchy. In his paper on the casuistry of tyranny and office, Conal Condren (Sydney) showed that steps taken against individuals act- ing as kings were justified in terms of their loss of office. As kings had been made virtually untouchable, the casuistry of tyranny allowed monarchy to be defended against tyrants. It removed the person of the tyrant from the protection that monarchy enjoyed, as described by Genet. It allowed the institution of monarchy and the untouchable nature of the person of the king to be defended by arguments about

135 Conference Reports removing someone who had been chosen, at one moment, to be king, but who had allegedly lost or never held the office. Although this argument was conceptually developed to a high degree as time went on, it proved to be extremely difficult and dan- gerous to put into practice. Against this background, Neithard Bulst (Bielefeld) and Christine Carpenter (Cambridge) examined the very different cases of England and France during the fifteenth century. In both cases society needed kingship and did its utmost to protect it, but for a number of reasons, some of which were accidental, this pro- tection did not always work. As Carpenter explained in her paper, the removal of a person once instituted as king was only contemplat- ed, let alone attempted under the most desperate of circumstances. Indeed, as she reminded us, noblemen in fourteenth- and fifteenth- century England were quite willing to believe that even the worst king could reform and only as a very last resort did they attempt actually to remove a man once made king. So important had the office of king become that it could not be allowed to be misused, but nor could it be allowed to be endangered. The importance of monar- chy and the actual ability of a given king to deliver had produced an impasse. Carpenter suggested that fifteenth-century English society preferred to pretend no violent removals had taken place rather than to celebrate those removals it had survived. Bulst’s paper demon- strated how strong and untouchable monarchy had become, but also showed that the impasse described above could be played out in very different ways. Although the king, Charles VI, was seriously ill and unable to govern for considerable lengths of time, his removal was never an option. By contrast, competitors for political control within the ‘dynastic corporation’ turned the vocabulary of tyranny against each other. The institution of monarchy had become so entrenched that even if a monarch was entirely inept, the actual power struggle had shifted from the competition for kingship to that for the position of advising the government during the king’s weakness. Murder was contemplated only for members of the higher nobility. All the contributors to the conference agreed that the Reformation and the new divisiveness of religious issues contributed to the strength of monarchy, but also produced entirely new problems in relations between king and society. James Burns (London) argued that in Scotland, the late medieval history of these relations was rewritten to devise an account whose most radical expression gave

136 Murder and Monarchy society the right to punish its king should he turn tyrant. Though Buchanan’s account of this possibility was based on the casuistry of office delineated by Conal Condren, it presented a willingness to act and to face the possibility of a minority; this boldness was clearly absent from either the English or French case. The specific religious tensions between Mary Stuart and her kingdom underlined how destructive the new religious divisiveness could actually become. The French monarchy, by contrast, being hardest hit by confessional strife, entered the seventeenth century with its medieval framework of sacredness firmly reinvigorated. English monarchs, in particular during the Restoration, made a similar effort, but the contribution by Glenn Burgess (Hull) reminded us how radical and uncompromising English republicanism could be at this point. It also reminded us that especially since the seventeenth century, legitimacy based on a sim- ple reassertion of divine right arguments could lead to severe prob- lems during the Enlightenment, and how divisive the republicanism of men like John Cook could be. In his recent appraisal of Cromwell’s attitude to the execution of Charles I, John Morrill described Cromwell as ‘at once a bitter opponent of Charles, a reluctant regi- cide, and a firm monarchist’. This qualification of Cromwell’s sense of his role and the duties associated with it was debated at the con- ference. The apparent paradox, of course, should not be seen as a problem that the conference exposed. As far as Cromwell was con- cerned, a traitor had been punished. How to defend monarchy in the face of inept individual kings that threatened the institution remained a core problem for the societies concerned. In a number of cases, the issue of first ministers or favourites who could be sacrificed if royal politics went wrong began to loom increasingly large, in par- ticular in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Lucien Bély (Paris- Sorbonne) traced the development of monarchy in France after the assassination of Henry III. He suggested that most social groups had a firm interest in re-building a strong monarchy, although for very different reasons. In particular, he showed how favourite ministers could serve as scapegoats for attacks on royal politics and thus effec- tively help to support the monarchy itself, a development that also characterized other contemporary monarchies. German history could also provide some examples of this level of violence serving as a safe- ty screen around the prince. Finally, Thomas Biskup (Oxford) dis- cussed the most successful modern monarchy of all—the most suc-

137 Conference Reports cessful, that is, in retrospect. The very different issues of legitimacy that began to play a part in late eighteenth-century Berlin made it clear to what extent this monarchy had developed its own theoretical defence. The entirely different nature of the legal legitimacy of those German princes who became monarchs after 1700, and of the popu- lar propaganda they used, helps us to understand some of the con- cerns of nineteenth-century medievalists in Berlin and Munich when writing about monarchy, not least the issue of the Germanic origins of leadership. The attempt to cover such a long time-span—from the early Middle Ages to the later eighteenth century—undoubtedly produced problems of its own. The main outcomes of the conference were first, to allow us to formulate more precise questions about the working of any one monarchy in comparison with others, and secondly, the pro- duction of an analytical map against which monarchy in different periods can be understood more clearly in terms of the interaction of four different issues. (1) The terminology of legitimacy and the casuistry of office. Monar- chical rule was considered necessary, and, indeed, effective specifi- cally for attaining goals indispensable to society, such as delivering justice, defence, and true religion. This was a shared view, under- scored by a vocabulary inherited from Antiquity but made increas- ingly more sophisticated during the medieval and early modern peri- ods (Condren). It distinguished monarchy from villains and protect- ed the former by allowing the elimination of the latter. The Visigothic and early Merovingian periods were the only ones which witnessed the killing of kings (Hillgarth, Ehlers); later periods merely defended themselves against tyrants, or executed traitors for the defence of society. In particular, the highly elaborate procedure of anointment successfully removed the king from the vicissitudes of violent con- flict that the nobility still faced. Under the specific circumstances of the first fall of the Stuart monarchy, pamphlets and opinions were produced that questioned monarchy itself. On the whole, contempo- raries were busy defending their monarchy against excessive kings (Carpenter, Bulst, Genet, Bély); they were rarely prepared to replace them, and then only after going to great lengths in order to avoid the act. Depending on circumstances, the institution of monarchy could become too important to let a weak king have his way. The unfortu- nate connection between legitimacy and the ‘natural selection’ of

138 Murder and Monarchy kings in hereditary monarchies continued to haunt societies which depended on a functioning kingship. Given this background, the dif- ferences between England and France in the fifteenth century stimu- lated much debate. (2) The importance of monarchy and the sanctity of the man in office as opposed to the incidence of excessive or inept kings. One way of dealing with this problem was to develop mechanisms of constraint which stopped short of removing kings who offended. The vocabulary of counsel and the various institutional safeguards, some enshrined in law, were part and parcel of an increasingly institutional setting intended to steer monarchy in a direction in which it would work. (3) The ‘dynastic corporation’. Family and kinship networks, the number of contenders produced in any situation, and their relation to each other proved to be highly important and sensitive issues at any moment in time. The eradication of competitors was one of the main ways in which the Merovingians secured power. Conversely, the lack of suitable contenders could have grave consequences once the man in office had to be removed for other reasons. The nature of the ‘dynastic corporation’ and of its embeddedness in society, that is, the availability of possible contenders and their role in society was prob- ably one of the most crucial factors in the actual working of monar- chy itself. (4) Links and communication with society. Offices, spoils, and lands were distributed by monarchs. From the perspective of the nobility, monarchy was meant to guarantee this distribution without too much interference by direct competitors. The issue of to what extent monarchy delivered these services, or proved to be acting in favour of the few—in itself a highly questionable description, forming part of the casuistry of good and bad government—appeared in a number of papers and debates. The role of officeholders and favourites as involuntary protection for monarchs, in that they could be sacrificed to allow a rapid change of policy, was also discussed. The nature of monarchy, the services it rendered to society on matters of justice, defence, and religion, and its impact on society in terms of the redistribution of resources (tax revenue, offices, spoils of war) is a major analytical issue in understanding the services which monarchy provided for society, and society’s appreciation. Nine- teenth-century historiography took these services out of their context and projected them on to modern principles such as the people, the

139 Conference Reports nation, and an ideology of ‘leadership’. When historians redress this imbalance, as they have been doing since the 1920s, and especially since the 1970s, they must not lose sight of the importance of monar- chy. The vast changes within the institution first need to be exam- ined—for example, through extraordinary events—in order to allow us to understand the long-term changes in the working of the monar- chy.

Robert von Friedeburg (Rotterdam)

140 Monarchy and Religion: The Transformation of Royal Culture in Eighteenth-Century Europe. Conference of the German Historical Institute London, held at the British Academy, 29 November– 1 December 2002.

The eighteenth century does not immediately spring to mind when the relationship between religion and monarchy is discussed. While the significance of religion in defining monarchical rule in the six- teenth and seventeenth centuries is generally accepted and research topics in this area are increasingly popular, this approach largely overlooks the eighteenth century. This is still commonly regarded as a period of growing secularization characterized, furthermore, by the transition from monarchies by divine grace to more rationalized and enlightened forms of absolutism. Especially the undisputed decline of a sacred understanding of monarchy since the late seventeenth century has obscured the fact that the monarch could still be inte- grated into religious contexts. Desecralization did not have to equal secularization. This was the point of departure for this conference, to which Hagen Schulze, Director of the GHIL, welcomed participants from Britain, France, the United States, and Germany. The aim of the con- ference was therefore to discuss the continuing influence of religion on monarchical rule and the modifications in the religious sphere of the ruler under the auspices of religious tolerance and Enlighten- ment. It asked what role religion played in the representation of the monarch, in the way the monarch perceived himself and lived his life, and in his (courtly) environment during the eighteenth century. Which religious motifs were used in representations of the ruler, and what was their impact? What effect did the ending of Baroque court- ly culture have on religious ceremonial and religious life at court? How did the composition of the body of clergy surrounding the ruler change throughout the century, and what influence—intellectual and political—did it have? Did religion become a private concern of the monarch, ultimately made visible in the way in which his funeral was conducted, or did it continue to exist in a public space, both inside and outside the court? These deliberations, outlined by Michael Schaich at the beginning of the gathering, gave rise to four thematic areas around which the conference was structured:

141 Conference Reports

(1) Religious representation of the ruler. (2) Religious ritual at court. (3) The clergy at court. (4) The death of the monarch. In order to open up a comparative perspective on the topics, speakers were invited to give papers on the monarchies of Britain, France, Austria, Russia, Prussia, and a few other smaller German principalities. This also ensured that the different confessional cul- tures in early modern Europe were equally represented, and that the features specific (or common) to Catholic, Protestant, and Orthodox monarchies emerged clearly. The conference started with a paper by Jonathan Clark (Kansas) whose book English Society 1688–1832, first published in 1985, dra- matically altered researchers’ approaches to the English eighteenth century. His thesis that even after the Glorious Revolution in Eng- land the ancien régime continued to exist placed hitherto neglected topics such as monarchy, religion, and aristocracy firmly back on to the agenda of British and American historians. The state of affairs in Anglo-American historiography in the early 1980s was also the point of departure for his paper on ‘The Changing Court: the Evolving Role of Court Culture in Eighteenth-Century Europe and in Recent His- toriography’. At that time topics such as monarchy and religion were regarded as hopelessly outmoded and seemed close to historio- graphical demise. According to Clark, drawing on Lawrence Stone’s famous essay, during the previous fifty years researchers on the eigh- teenth century had concentrated on various social sciences (econom- ic sciences, sociology, psychoanalysis, demography, and anthropolo- gy), and diverted attention from traditional themes such as the early modern court or religious attitudes. The British eighteenth century appeared as an age of modernization and secularization. Industrial- ization, urbanization, the emergence of a consumer society, or the rise of the bourgeoisie were the favourite research topics. Traditional topics such as religion or monarchy survived this phase only with great difficulty. In the early 1980s, however, there was an unexpect- ed change: theology started to influence historiography. Religion became a preferred topic of research, and was now examined from its own premisses. In the case of England this change manifested itself in various spheres: the history of political ideas discussed the reli- gious roots of supposedly secular world-images, and the relationship

142 Monarchy and Religion between state and church was recognized as one of the most impor- tant subjects of intellectual and political debate in the eighteenth cen- tury. Monarchical and hierarchical social orders that drew upon Christian teaching were no longer regarded as anachronistic in the age of Enlightenment, and at the same time greater attention was paid to the religious causes of the American Revolution. This revaluation of long-neglected topics benefited research on the princely court, the place where monarchy and religion most closely overlapped. The representation of power in art and ceremo- nial, and the enduring political function of the court or its role as a place of patronage were some of the topics that became particularly popular internationally. None the less, there were still gaps in re- search. Supranational comparisons of court cultures are still missing, and not only for the eighteenth century. Above all, however, the reli- gious dimension of European courts has so far been largely ignored. In Britain, for example, until well into the nineteenth century nation- al thanksgiving services were a common occurrence, supporters of the monarchy continued to embrace its religious foundations, and rulers espoused patriarchal stereotypes, despite Locke’s criticism of Filmer’s ideas. Moreover caution is required when looking at the changing role of religion. All too often change is equated with de- cline, whereas in fact what is meant is reform of religious practices, the emergence of new theological trends, or a redefinition of the rela- tionship between state and church. If topics such as monarchy and religion are taken seriously, even in the eighteenth century, quite a different mentality becomes apparent, one which was not pushed aside by the Enlightenment and which also forces us to rethink other eighteenth-century phenomena. Such re-assessment has been made possible by the changed intellectual climate of the last twenty years. Following these remarks the first session of the conference, chaired by Joanna Innes (Oxford), was entitled ‘Religious Represent- ation of the Ruler’. It was opened by Hannah Smith (Cambridge) with a paper on ‘Defenders of the Protestant Faith: Godly Kingship from George I to George III’. Smith looked at the significance of the Protestant religion for the esteem of the British monarchy in the eighteenth century. Throughout the reigns of the first three Hanoverian kings, the monarch was portrayed as defender of the Protestant faith, imitating the title Defender of the Faith that had been customary since Henry VIII’s time. Clergy and poets celebrated

143 Conference Reports

George I (1714–27) and George II (1727–60) as soldier-kings, pleasing to God, who were protecting Protestantism against Catholic attacks all over Europe. They glorified the military careers of the two Hanoverians in the Turkish Wars or the Battle of Dettingen, but also compared them with mythological figures such as Saint George, or earlier English soldier-kings, in particular, Edward III, Henry V, and William of Orange. At the same time Caroline of Brandenburg- Ansbach, George II’s wife, was extolled as a Protestant heroine— after all, she had rejected marriage to a Habsburg prince because she did not want to convert to Catholicism. During George III’s long reign (1760–1820) the image of the Defender of the Faith underwent certain changes. Under the impact of the French Revolution, in par- ticular, George III and his wife, Charlotte of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, came to be portrayed as models of a general Christian piety, in con- trast to the blasphemous spirit of the Paris revolutionaries. All the same, the Protestant components remained prominent in representa- tions of the monarch and his family, as demonstrated by the inclu- sion of royal marriages in a Protestant iconography. The two con- cepts were not mutually exclusive. ‘George III remained as much the Defender of the Faith of Protestants as the Defender of Christianity.’ The counterweight to the Protestant stylization of the House of Hanover was examined by Edward Gregg (South Carolina) in his paper on ‘The Exiled Stuarts: Martyrs for the Catholic Faith?’ Throughout the entire eighteenth century the exiled Stuarts saw their conversion to Catholicism as the reason why they lost the throne. At the same time they used this to try and mobilize support from the Catholic monarchs in Europe. The situation at the exiled Jacobite court did not, however, entirely correspond to this. The Stuarts always had at least one Anglican clergyman in an official position, a practice retained even during their stay in Rome in 1717 and silently tolerated by the Popes. Until 1770 there was a largely uninterrupted stream of Anglican court clergy. Naturally the court was dominated by Catholics, and there were a number of dramatically staged conver- sions to Catholicism. To underpin their image as a Catholic dynasty the exiled Stuarts also sought to have James II (1633–170l), and the Polish wife of James III (1688–1766), Clementina Sobieska, canonized. However, both these processes of canonization faded away in the course of time, especially after 1745 when the Jacobite cause was on the decline. James III also believed that the Catholic church should

144 Monarchy and Religion compensate the Stuarts for their martyrdom, if not politically, then at least financially. None the less the elevation of one of James III’s sons to the position of cardinal in the late eighteenth century testifies once again to their close links with the Catholic church. The concluding paper on the first day of the conference was by Chantall Grell (Paris) on ‘Le sacre de Louis XVI: la fin d’un mythe’. Using the example of Louis XVI’s (1775–93) coronation, she demon- strated how advanced the desacralization of the French monarchy was by this time. Indeed, the events of July 1775 unleashed a debate about the significance of the coronation that even extended to the government. Turgot, for example, spoke vehemently against the cer- emony, which he rejected as outdated. Although the celebrations did eventually take place, they were modernized to such an extent that they permanently damaged the religious content of the ceremony. Both the procession to Reims and the coronation occurred in a form radically altered by the authorities. The city and cathedral were dec- orated in a way that imitated classical forms, while the Gothic archi- tecture and medieval works of art were covered up. The end result was that the profane decorations clashed with the religious content. The religious ceremony was transformed into a spectacle without inner coherence. The sacred dimension of the coronation was also questioned from another quarter. In learned circles a controversy developed about the historical authenticity of the French Kings’ coro- nations, particularly the original model, the baptism of Clovis. In the wake of this debate historians pointed out that the report by Hinkmar of Reims about ointment brought down by a dove from heaven was not produced until much later and that the miracle should therefore be regarded as an article of faith. At the same time the report by Gregory of Tours on Clovis’s baptism was also subject- ed to stringent analysis and its authenticity undermined. In any case Louis XVI’s coronation seemed to contemporaries like a ritual with- out any solid historical basis. Like the attempts to modernize the coronation ceremony, the learned debate had called the religious nature of the French monarchy into question. Even by 1775 the mys- tère monarchique was no longer universally comprehensible. On the morning of the second day, with Joseph Bergin (Man- chester) in the chair, questions of how dynasties presented them- selves and further aspects of religious ceremonial dominated. The specific problems of the religious representation of the Albertines in

145 Conference Reports

Saxony around 1700 was the focal point of the paper by Helen Watanabe-O’Kelly (Oxford). Throughout the seventeenth century the Albertines had already stylized themselves as the guardians of Lutheranism, whereby marriages to princesses from good Lutheran houses was part of the elaborate iconography. This is where a divi- sion of labour between the ruler and his wife was introduced: while the man went to war and defended the Lutheran religion by force of arms, his wife remained at home and devoted herself to praying for the Saxon armies, defending Saxony by spiritual means. Around 1700 this image of the Protestant mother of the country gained particular significance. When August the Strong (1694–1733) converted to Catholicism his wife Christiane Eberhardine of Bayreuth (1671–1727) became the sole protector of the Lutheran faith in the eyes of her Saxon subjects. Christiane Eberhardine had refused to convert with her husband and instead had withdrawn to Torgau and Pretzsch, where she led a solitary pious life. In public perception she became the sole guardian of Lutheranism in Saxony, especially after it was made known that her son had secretly converted in the very year of the jubilee of the Reformation in 1717. This stylization was expressed most tellingly in the description of Christiane Eberhardine as the ‘pil- lar of Saxony’s faith’. Thus August the Strong’s wife filled the vacu- um in the dynasty’s religious self-presentation left by her husband when he converted to Catholicism. Ferdinand Kramer (Eichstätt) looked at similar processes of com- pensation in his paper on the Electorate of Bavaria. He sought to dis- pel the contradiction between the Bavarian Elector’s enlightened church policy in the eighteenth century and the dynasty’s self-pres- entation as guardians of the Catholic faith. Throughout the eight- eenth century the Bavarian Electors presented themselves in this role, whose roots lay in the anti-reformatory policy of the Bavarian Dukes William V (1579–97) and Maximilian I (1597–1651). At that time, not least under Jesuit influence, a Catholic state ideology had been developed, the central element of which was veneration of the Virgin Mary (Mary as Patrona Bavariae). It carried on uninterrupted into the eighteenth century, as underlined, for example, by the pilgrimages undertaken by the Bavarian rulers to the shrines of Mary in Tuntenhausen, Dorfen, and Altötting. When Elector Max III Joseph (1745–78) came to power this state ideology was in contradiction to an increasingly enlightened church policy. None the less religious life

146 Monarchy and Religion at the courts continued as before. A daily church service and celebra- tion of various religious festivals was as much part of everyday life at the Munich Residency as the Elector’s membership of various fra- ternities or participation in the major Corpus Christi processions. The zenith of combative Catholicism was reached with the burials of the Wittelsbachs. These followed a choreography all of their own—the hearts being interred in Altötting, the place of pilgrimage, and the bodies in the Munich Theatinerkirche. The uninterrupted influence of the Catholic state ideology can only be explained against the back- ground of the crisis of legitimacy that befell the Bavarian state in the course of the eighteenth century. Along with enlightened church pol- icy it was, for example, the various territorial exchange projects of the late eighteenth century that damaged the reputation of the Bavarian rulers. In this situation the Wittelsbachs’ self-stylization as guardians of the Catholic faith seemed to offer a means of integrating the pop- ulation. Simon Dixon (Leeds) presented an overview of the religious festi- vals at the Russian court. At the beginning of his paper he also sketched a history of the Russian court from Peter the Great (1682– 1725) to Catherine II (1762–96), on which little research has been done so far, and also described the difficult process of establishing a court along the lines of the Western model. This also brought upheaval to religious life, and was manifested in a continuous religious building programme that went on throughout the century. After the court moved from Moscow to St Petersburg every Tsar had new churches, palace chapels, and monasteries built. And the changes were even more obvious in the court’s religious calendar. During the Moscow period the Court had still rigidly adhered to the dictates of the Orthodox church year. This was to change under Peter the Great when the twelve major Orthodox church festivals largely disap- peared from the court calendar, to be replaced by celebrations of mil- itary victories, or the birthdays and name-days of the Tsar and his family. The general conclusion drawn from these changes in the sec- ondary literature is that religious festivals were replaced by secular ones, in which the military played a prominent role. Old religiosity was, supposedly, on the decline. But Dixon warned against such over-hasty conclusions, pointing to later developments. Under Tsarina Anna (1730–40), for example, numerous Orthodox church festivals reappeared on the court calendar, albeit adorned by a mili-

147 Conference Reports tary element. And other religious festivals from the period before Peter the Great were also resurrected. Moreover, from about 1742 onwards a procession with an old Moscow-style icon was reintro- duced on Alexander Nevski’s saints’ day. Even under Catherine II, whose court calendar at first sight looks purely secular, religious fes- tivals did not completely disappear. Even if the thesis of a secular- ization of the court calendar is true to some extent, it does not pres- ent the complete picture. Traditional religiosity survived in a some- what militarized form. Religious life at the French court, on the other hand, remained largely unchanged from the seventeenth century, as Gérard Sabatier (Grenoble) demonstrated in his paper. The French kings continued to offer semi-private prayers on rising and retiring. And a daily mass was held in the court chapel, although the monarchs generally took part in it from a raised offertory and only sat in the body of the chapel on special occasions. At the same time the queen had her own church services. In addition, there were fifteen major religious festivals at court. Also part of the court calendar were processions, for example at Whitsun or on Palm Sunday, as well as the two festivals particularly closely associated with the dynasty, Mary’s Ascension and the name day of St Louis. To complete this list, numerous religious ceremonies also took place beyond the inner circle of the court. These included the two most important rituals, the coronation and burial of the ruler, although in the course of the century burials became more and more theatrical affairs. Another regular religious custom was that prayers and thanks were offered throughout the land when the ruler was ill. The centrepiece of these ceremonies were often portraits of the king and his family, thus emphasizing the presence of the ruler in the whole of France. The Te Deum fulfilled a similar function, one of the great monarchical ceremonies in which God was thanked for the well-being of both the ruler and the country. Even the erection of royal statues took on religious dimensions since such acts revealed a nascent religion civique that pointed towards the revolutionary festivals. The afternoon session, chaired by Harry T. Dickinson (Edinburgh) concentrated on the court clergy. In the first paper Nicole Reinhardt (Paris) analysed the image of the French kings as father confessors surrounded by myths, an image that underwent a dramatic transfor- mation at the turn of the eighteenth century. The elevated position of the religious advisors can be explained by the vital role they played

148 Monarchy and Religion for the French monarchy. Confession and the religious quality of the monarchy were very closely linked to one another. Thus it was only after he had cleansed his conscience that the monarch attained the state of grace that allowed him to cure scrofula. And within the coro- nation ritual, confession also had a significant function. For this rea- son the crown prince was given a father confessor at the early age of seven, from the early seventeenth century onwards always a Jesuit. The most difficult problem faced by the Jesuit father confessors was their relationship with politics. Although they had repeatedly been told by their elders since the sixteenth century to keep out of politics, they were constantly caught up in political intrigues in the course of the seventeenth century, not least under Louis XIV (1643–1715). But after the Sun King’s death the father confessor was disempowered and lost his seat in the Conseil de Conscience, responsible for church policy. What is more, for the first time the father confessor was not a Jesuit. Even if this decision was quickly revoked, the measure re- moved the religious advisors from public attention, and this was not without consequences, as can be seen in particular in clandestine lit- erature. Until then the image of the father confessor suffered from the general anti-Jesuit clichés (monarchomachism, laxity in moral ques- tions, political intriguing). At the same time, however, in these texts the father confessors had also been presented as the monarchs’ scape- goats. Like Louis XIV’s leading ministers and favourites they could be held responsible for policies that misfired. When religious advi- sors withdrew from the political arena under Louis XV (1715–74) polemics against the father confessors also ceased. The new constella- tion became clear at a stroke in the year 1744 when Louis XV, seem- ingly facing death, had to give up his mistresses or else be denied the chance to make his confession and receive the sacraments. If the pub- lic considered Louis XIV to be surrounded by unscrupulous advisers in the persons of the Jesuit father confessors, his successor stood quite alone. Now in public perception no one bore the guilt other than the king himself. His Jesuit advisors, on the other hand, had disappeared from public view. The heroic phase of the father confessors was over. Stephen Taylor (Reading) transferred attention to the situation at the British court under George I (1714–27) and George II (1727–60) in a paper he described as ‘a variation on the theme of the decline of the court since the late seventeenth century’. Under the two Hanoverians the court had lost the significant position it had still held for the

149 Conference Reports

English clergy at the end of the seventeenth century. This process manifested itself in two particular spheres: the court’s loss of impor- tance as a job centre for the clergy and as a place for theological debates. During the seventeenth century the position of royal chap- lain was regarded as an essential prerequisite for a further career within the Anglican church, especially for becoming a bishop. But after George II ascended the throne the number of royal chaplains who went on to become bishops continuously declined. Politicians such as Robert Walpole or the Duke of Newcastle increasingly assumed the right to appoint the holders of high office. Much the same can be said of the role of the court sermon, which until the reign of Queen Anne (1702–14) had been used to discuss important theo- logical issues and to defend controversial political decisions. Under the Hanoverians this tradition was abandoned. Around 1720 the cus- tom of publishing court sermons, thereby reaching a broader public, was suddenly discontinued. The clergy sought other arenas for their religious speeches. Ultimately, there is no getting away from the fact that the court no longer seemed to have the same significance for the Anglican church. In his paper on the Viennese clergy under Maria Theresa (1740–80) and Joseph II (1765–90), Derek Beales (Cambridge) painted a similarly sceptical picture of the role of the court clergy. During both these reigns the counter-reformatory élan of the Habsburg monarchy gradually ran out, a development that also had repercus- sions on the religious life of the court. The court’s annual church attendances were reduced from 87 to 22, grand projects such as the extension of the palace monastery started under Charles VI were abandoned, and from 1759 the influence of the Jesuits was systemat- ically reduced. As a consequence the significance of the clergy at court was fairly small. It is also difficult to establish which, if any, belonged to the court clergy. Abbot Bessel of Göttweig, for example, was for a time an envoy in the imperial service, but this did not make him a member of the court clergy. The number of court clergy in a strict sense was therefore quite small: throughout the entire century there were twelve court preachers and chaplains. Elevated clergy who moved around the court without belonging to the court clergy itself were the Archbishop and the Nuntius, the latter claiming a lead- ing spiritual role that he was never really granted. Maria Theresa, but above all Joseph II, considerably restricted his sphere of influence.

150 Monarchy and Religion

Furthermore, there were numerous members of the imperial clergy at the Viennese court: imperial abbots like Martin Gerbert of St Blasien and imperial bishops constantly attended the courts on behalf of their institutions. And not least, under Joseph II various members of the Habsburg family who belonged to the clergy (his brother, Archduke Max Francis of Cologne, and two of his sisters) were present at the Viennese court. In the end, however, the fact that under Joseph II vir- tually no court existed and that it was only minimally revived under his successors meant that the clergy were unable to take on a more important role. Paul Bushkovitch (Yale), on the other hand, made a much more positive assessment in his paper on the Russian court clergy and their sermons, which have been unjustly neglected by research. The genre of the sermon had been introduced at the Russian court in the 1660s and 1670s. In the following years, apart from celebrating the liturgy, this became the main activity of the clergy present at court. Under Peter the Great in particular sermons became the main channel for informing the Russian élite about western ideas and customs. Thus in Archbishop Feofan Prokopvich’s Palm Sunday sermon of 1718 the idea of natural law cropped up for the first time. ‘Political’ sermons, mostly delivered on national feast days also constituted an important element of the genre, running through the entire eighteenth century, with glorification of the ruler, itself a western import, constantly a key feature of religious speeches. During the first half of the century these panegyrics were still strongly marked by Baroque rhetoric, but under Catherine the Great a more sober and simpler style emerged. Alongside these ‘political’ sermons there were also, of course, ‘reli- gious’ sermons, which enjoyed particular prominence during Lent. They reflected the general development of the Russian church after the middle of the century: away from the influence of the Catholic- Jesuit models of the first half of the century, towards a growing importance of Lutheran and in particular Pietist ideas, enriched by enlightened thinking. In the second half of the century, however, more important than the change in content and style was the changed context in which sermons were held. They were no longer the most important medium for popularizing western political or religious ideas within court society, but had to contend with widely disseminated translations of western works and indeed the court the- atre, which was becoming increasingly important. At the end of

151 Conference Reports

Catherine’s reign the Russian court had other ways and means of receiving western ideology and became far more interested in the new enlightened-secular culture. But for all its reduced significance, reli- gion never became marginal, always retaining a prominent position. The final session, chaired by Robert J. W. Evans (Oxford) and enti- tled ‘The Death of the Monarch’, was introduced by Lindsey Hughes (London) with a paper on the funerals of the Russian Tsars. Peter the Great’s funeral in 1725 was to become the model for the funerals of Russian rulers in the eighteenth century. Until this time the Tsar’s burials had largely been private affairs. Organized by the patriarchs of Moscow, they had taken place with only limited public attendance and had culminated in a funeral procession, a service in Moscow’s St Michael’s cathedral, a 24-hour vigil, and the laying to rest. Peter’s funeral was totally different from these old-style burials. As a key- stone of his reform programme Peter had planned a funeral in St Petersburg, along western European lines, characterized particularly by its public nature. His dying, staged as a good death (receiving communion, embracing the priest etc.), already provided ample material for Russian memorial books. What is more, a series of pic- tures of Peter on his deathbed and a wax effigy were produced—a shocking event for a country in which secular pictures represented a new departure. Presumably out of consideration for traditional cir- cles this aspect of the solemnities was not repeated later. After Peter’s death there was, for the first time, a lying-in-state of the—likewise for the first time—embalmed corpse. This was followed by a magnificent procession over the Neva to the Cathedral of St Peter and St Paul. Apart from the presence of numerous clergy, there was a noticeable military presence in the procession. Very few details are known of the funeral service, presumably because it was so familiar to contem- poraries that they felt no need to describe it. Finally, Peter’s coffin was on public display for six years, to enable his people to bid their final farewells. With its public, demonstrative character Peter the Great reinvented the Tsarist burial. His funeral was the model for all those of the Romanovs until well into the nineteenth century. Mark Hengerer (Constance) looked at the funerals of the Habs- burg rulers, concentrating on three main aspects: the death of the ruler, his funeral, and the laying to rest. A clear process of transfor- mation is apparent in the death of the ruler. In their final hours Ferdinand II (1619–37) and Ferdinand III (1637–57) still faithfully fol-

152 Monarchy and Religion lowed the precepts of the medieval ars moriendi for a good Christian death (confession, uninterrupted stream of prayers). The deaths of Leopold I (1658–1705) and Joseph I (1705–11), on the other hand, were no longer surrounded by the same religious atmosphere. Al- though the prescribed steps (confession, prayer) were still followed, they seemed to be merely pro forma. A major break with tradition occurred in the case of Joseph II, who is said to have worked on state papers right to the end. Yet no clear development can be discerned where the funerals are concerned. They consisted of four parts: lying in state at the Hofburg, the nocturnal death procession, burial in the crypt of the Capuchin church in Vienna, and the exequies. The first three elements remained largely unchanged, but the exequies, the most important part of the solemnities, underwent a radical transfor- mation from the early seventeenth century onwards. The castra doloris, key features of the ceremony, increasingly lost their Christian relevance and served instead to legitimize the ruler by reference to classical Antiquity. The real break in funeral tradition came, of course, with Joseph II who, in accordance with his enlightened atti- tude, made the ceremonies much simpler (shorter lying in state, more modest procession). On the other hand, laying the Habsburgs to rest in the Capuchin church made it, in the course of the eighteenth cen- tury, into the dynasty’s key memorial. From the end of the seven- teenth century the Christian decorations on the plain coffins were gradually replaced by secular symbols and the sarcophagi became more grandiose. With regard to the laying to rest, the same develop- ments are discernible as in the other areas mentioned above, namely, that alongside religion other reference systems became more impor- tant. Following Thomas Luckmann and Niklas Luhmann’s concepts, the death and burials of the Habsburgs can therefore be seen as part of that far-reaching process in which religion was displaced as the key factor in a previously hierarchical society and became a subsys- tem of modern society. Taking the example of the Prussian kings’ funerals, Eckhart Hell- muth (Munich) showed that in the eighteenth century religion could assume various forms, and not only Christian ones. With the exception of Frederick I (1688/1701–13), Prussian rulers did not have corona- tions, but were buried with great pomp and circumstance. Both the Grand Elector (1640–88) and Frederick I had splendid funerals. Neither of these funerals, however, differed substantially from Baroque state

153 Conference Reports funerals. This was not to change until the second Prussian king’s funeral. When he died Frederick William I (1713–40) wished to appear as a poor sinner begging his creator for mercy. In the hour of his death he prayed intensively with clergy of both Protestant confes- sions and, breaking with tradition, was buried in a simple coffin, not in Berlin cathedral with its richly decorated sarcophagi, but in the undec- orated crypt of the new garrison church in Potsdam. The solemnities after the burial also revealed a further aspect: the mourning rooms in Potsdam Castle and the funeral service in the garrison church symbol- ically emphasized the role of both the Hohenzollern dynasty and the Prussian state. The relationship between monarchy and religion was even more complex in Frederick the Great’s (1740–86) burial. The hour of Frederick’s death was already different from that of his father. He died in stoic silence surrounded not by clergy, but only by his doctor and a few faithful followers. And if his death could hardly be described as Christian, his funeral, which he planned himself, was completely devoid of Christian attributes. Frederick had envisaged a simple interment in Sanssouci Park, which, however, was full of Masonic symbolism. He was still practising his own religion, if not a Christian one. But his wishes were ignored. A funeral was staged that clearly contained Christian elements. After the lying in state the coffin was laid to rest in the Potsdam garrison church to the accompaniment of a chorale. The subsequent solemnities, based on his father’s exe- quies, also had a strongly religious dimension. Clearly Christian tradi- tion could not be abandoned, even if the dead monarch himself had long since rejected it. And, of course, as in the case of Frederick I, the solemnities were significant at another level: the sermons delivered up and down the country celebrated the dead man’s virtues, especially his selfless service to the fatherland. Frederick appeared as a man who had sacrificed himself for the good of the Prussian state. This cult around the dead Frederick reveals a new and quite different religion: that of Prussian patriotism and nationalism. In the final paper Michael Schaich (London) discussed the process by which the British royal family’s funerals became more private. Throughout the eighteenth century royal funerals took place ‘in a pri- vate manner’. They were thus very different from the so-called ‘pub- lic funerals’ of the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries, which reached a final peak with the death of Mary II in 1695. The body of William of Orange’s (1689–1702) wife lay in state for several days in

154 Monarchy and Religion the Palace of Whitehall and was then brought to Westminster Abbey in a magnificent procession. During the service it lay in a catafalque at the crossing of the nave, before being laid to rest in the Henry VII chapel, the English monarchy’s traditional burial place. When her husband died, a process had already started that led to increasingly intimate funerals. The duration of the lying in state and the number of people allowed to view the corpse were successively reduced and the route of the procession was such that the waiting masses could barely get a glimpse of it. The funeral service was also moved from the main body of the church to the smaller Henry VII chapel. What is more, the solemnities now took place at night. Parallel to this the number of those marching in the procession was reduced to such an extent that in the end only the inner court circle was represented. All this corresponded to the requirements of an introverted religiosity that was also gaining ground at the British court. The private burials abandoned all the elements of the ‘public funerals’ which, like the sermon or the symbolic decoration of the catafalque, had become vehicles for an ostentatious and often confessionally belligerent piety. Instead, the nocturnal nature of the funeral created a reflective atmosphere that was reinforced by further innovations, in particular, specially composed funeral anthems (for example, by G. F. Handel). Furthermore the choice of biblical texts to accompany the music shows that by the second half of the century at the latest the focal point of the solemnities had become the dead person’s salvation. The private, introverted religiosity of the royal family’s funerals had thus responded to the demands of the time. Publication of the conference proceedings is planned.

Michael Schaich (GHIL)

155 NOTICEBOARD

Research Seminar

The GHIL regularly organizes a research seminar at which recipients of grants from the Institute, Fellows of the GHIL, and other scholars report on the progress of their work. Any postgraduate or postdoc- toral researchers who are interested in the subjects are welcome to attend. As a general rule, the language of the papers and discussion is German. The following papers will be given this term. Further meetings may also be arranged. Future dates will be announced on each occa- sion, and are available from the GHIL. For further information, con- tact Professor Lothar Kettenacker on 020 7404 5486. Please note that meetings begin promptly at 4 p.m.

20 May Editha Ulrich England in den Darstellungen deutschsprachiger Reisebe- richte vor dem Hintergrund der deutsch-britischen Bezie- hungen (1871–1914)

10 Jun. David Wirth Westliche Diplomatie in der Zweiten Berlinkrise

17 Jun. Alexander Engel Textile Farbstoffe zwischen Handels- und Industriekapitalis- mus (1600–1914)

1 Jul. Patrick Krajewski Dhauhandel in Ostafrika—ein eigenständiger afrikanischer Wirtschaftssektor im Kolonialismus ?

8 Jul. Daniel W. K. Trepsdorf Selbst- und Fremdrezeption im wilhelminischen Deutschland und viktorianischen Großbritannien am Beispiel Afrikas (1884–1914)

156 Noticeboard

As a matter of interest to readers, we record the following papers which were given before the publication date of this Bulletin:

21 Jan. Karen Bayer Der britische Journalist Sefton Delmer und die Deutschen: Ein biographische Studie

18 Feb. Jörg H. Peltzer Verwaltungswissen königlicher Herrschaft in England im Hochmittelalter

27 Feb. Ulrich Schnakenberg Die britische Verfassungspolitik auf Länderebene nach 1945

4 Mar. Dr Olaf Blaschke Verleger und Historiker seit 1945 im deutsch-britischen Ver- gleich

11 Mar. Martin Schramm Das Deutschlandbild in der britischen Presse 1912–1919/20

18 Mar. Dr Gesa Stedman Channel Crossings: Henrietta Maria and Anglo-French Re- lations in the Seventeenth Century

Scholarships awarded by the GHIL

Each year the GHIL awards a number of research scholarships to German postgraduate and postdoctoral students to enable them to carry out research in Britain, and to British postgraduates for re- search visits to Germany. The scholarships are generally awarded for a period of up to six months, depending on the requirements of the research project. British applicants will normally be expected to have completed one year’s postgraduate research, and be studying Ger- man history or Anglo-German relations. The scholarships are ad- vertised in the Times Higher Educational Supplement and Die Zeit every

157 Noticeboard

September. Applications may be sent in at any time, but allocations are made for the following calendar year. Applications, which should include a CV, educational background, list of publications (where appropriate), and an outline of the project, together with a supervi- sor’s reference confirming the relevance of the proposed archival research, should be addressed to the Director, German Historical Institute London, 17 Bloomsbury Square, London WC1A 2 NJ. During their stay in Britain, German scholars present their proj- ects and the initial results of their research at the Institute’s Research Seminar, and British scholars do the same on their return from Ger- many (see above for the current programme). For the year 2003 the following scholarships have been awarded for research on British history, German history, and Anglo-German relations.

Ph.D. Scholarships Alexander Achtiani-Asl: Die britische Expansion in Indien 1818–56: Ein Beitrag zur Imperialismusforschung Karen Bayer: Der britische Journalist Sefton Delmer und die Deut- schen: Eine biographische Studie Julia von Dannenberg: Der Moskauer Vertrag vom 12. August 1970: Ein Beitrag zur internationalen Entspannungspolitik oder zur Wieder- vereinigungspolitik? Alexander Engel: Konstruktion und Rekonfiguration eines globalen Marktes: Textile Farbstoffe zwischen Handels- und Industriekapita- lismus (1600–1914) Mathias Goergi: Naturwissenschaften in der Öffentlichkeit: Debatten über den Zustand der Welt in England 1750–60 Patrick Krajewski: Dhauhandel in Ostafrika, 1890–1914: Ein eigen- ständiger afrikanischer Wirtschaftssektor im Kolonialimus? Jörg H. Peltzer: Zu den englischen Besitzungen normannischer Kathe- dralskapitel Dorothee Platz: Das Women’s Army Auxiliary Corps: Kriegserfah- rungen von Frauen im britischen Hilfsdienst der Armee des Ersten Weltkriegs Ulrich Schnakenberg: Die britische Verfassungspolitik auf Länder- ebene: Kernelement bei der Etablierung funktionierender Demokra- tie in Deutschland nach 1945

158 Noticeboard

Martin Schramm: Das Deutschlandbild in der britischen Presse 1912–1919/20 Daniel W. K. Trepsdorf: Afrikanische Anklage und europäischer Ego- ismus: Eine komparative Studie zur Selbst- und Fremdrezeption im Wilhelminischen Deutschland und Viktorianischen Großbritannien (1884–1914) Editha Ulrich: Imagination und Begegnung: England in Darstellungen deutschsprachiger Reiseberichte zwischen 1871–1914 vor dem Hinter- grund der deutsch-britischen Beziehungen David Wirth: Westliche Diplomatie in der Zweiten Berlinkrise Tobias Wolfhardt: Wissenschaft als koloniale Selbstinszenierung: An- eignung und Abgrenzung im Prozeß der empirischen Erforschung Indiens ca. 1757–1820 Fiona Wright: Representation of Sexuality in Weimar Berlin

Postdoctoral Scholarships Dr Olaf Blaschke: Verleger und Historiker seit 1945 im deutsch-briti- schen Vergleich Dr Sven Oliver Müller: Macht der Musik, Musik der Macht: Das Musik- leben in London und Berlin im 19. Jahrhundert Dr Gesa Stedman: Channel Crossings: Henrietta Maria and Anglo- French Relations in the Seventeenth Century

Postgraduate Students’ Conference

The German Historical Institute London held its seventh postgradu- ate students’ conference on 9–10 January 2003. Its intention was to give postgraduate research students in the UK and Ireland working on German history an opportunity to present their work-in-progress, and to discuss it with other students working in the same field. The Institute also aimed to present itself as a research centre for German history in London, and to introduce postgraduates to the facilities it offers as well as to the Institute’s Research Fellows. In selecting students to give a presentation, preference was given to those in their second or third year who had possibly already spent a period of research in Germany. Students in their first year were

159 Noticeboard invited to attend as discussants. Twelve projects in all were intro- duced in plenary sessions held over two days. Sessions were devot- ed to the nineteenth century, the Weimar Republic, and the post-1945 period in both East and West Germany. As well as discussing their subjects and methodologies, the par- ticipants exchanged information about practical difficulties such as language and transcription problems, how to locate sources, and finding one’s way around German archives. Many comments came from the floor, including information about language courses and intensive courses for the reading of German manuscripts, references to literature already published on the topic, and suggestions about additional sources. Information about institutions that give grants for research in Germany was also exchanged. The German Historical Institute can offer support here by facilitating contact with German archives and providing letters of introduction which may be neces- sary for students to gain access to archives or specific source collec- tions. In certain cases it may help students to make contact with par- ticular German universities and professors. The German Historical Institute also provides scholarships for research in Germany (see above). The GHIL is planning to hold the next postgraduate students’ conference early in 2004. For further information, including how to apply, please contact the Secretary, German Historical Institute, 17 Bloomsbury Square, London WC1A 2NJ.

Prize of the German Historical Institute London

The German Historical Institute London awards an annual prize, known as the Prize of the German Historical Institute London, for an outstanding work of British or German historical scholarship. The prize was initiated in 1996 to mark the twentieth anniversary of the founding of the GHIL. In 2002 the prize was awarded to Jan Rüger for his thesis, entitled ’The Celebration of the Fleet in Britain and Germany, 1897–1914’, submitted to the University of Cambridge.

160 Noticeboard

To be eligible a work must be:

1 a Ph.D. thesis written at a UK or German university and, as a rule, submitted to the university within the 12 months prior to the clos- ing date 2 on a subject matter taken from the field of UK or German history or UK–German relations or comparative studies in the nineteenth or twentieth century 3 unpublished.

An entry which has been submitted to a UK university must be in English and on German history or UK–German relations or a com- parative topic; an entry which has been submitted to a German uni- versity must be in German and on British history or UK-German rela- tions or a comparative topic.

To apply, please send the following to reach the Director of the German Historical Institute, 17 Bloomsbury Square, London WC1A 2NJ, by 1 September 2003:

1 the complete text 2 all relevant reports from the university to which it is being sub- mitted 3 a declaration that, if a work in German is awarded the prize, the author is prepared to allow the work to be considered for publi- cation in the series Veröffentlichungen des Deutschen Historischen In- stituts London, and that the work will not be published elsewhere until the judges have reached their final decision 4 the applicant’s current curriculum vitae.

The Prize will be presented on the occasion of the Institute’s Annual Lecture in November 2003. Future awards will be advertised in the Bulletin of the GHIL.

No member of the Committee of Judges and no employee or blood relative of an employee or ex-employee of the Institute or any mem- ber of the Committee shall be eligible as a candidate for the Prize.

161 Noticeboard

Staff News

The academic staff of the Institute changes from time to time, as most Research Fellows have fixed-term contracts of three to five years’ duration. During this time, along with their duties at the Institute, they work on a major project of their own choice, and as a result the Institute’s areas of special expertise also change. We take this oppor- tunity to keep our readers regularly informed.

SABINE FREITAG was a Research Fellow at the GHIL from 1996 to 2002. Her main fields of interest are nineteenth- and early twentieth- century German, British, and American history. During her time at the Institute she was co-editor of a multi-volume series British Envoys to Germany, 1815–1866 (Cambridge, 2000, 2002). She is currently working on a history of criminal law, culture, and policy in England, entitled Die Grenzen des Expertentums: Kriminalitätsdiskurse in England im Spannungsfeld von Staat, Wissenschaft und Zivilgesellschaft, 1877– 1930. Her latest publications include: Sabine Freitag (ed.), Exiles from European Revolutions: Refugees in Mid-Victorian England (New York and Oxford, 2003).

DOMINIK GEPPERT, who joined the GHIL in 2000, studied history, philosophy, and law in Freiburg and Berlin, where he also worked as a research assistant for four years. His main fields of interest are British and German contemporary history, international history, and the history of the press. He is currently working on British–German press relations, 1890 to 1914. In addition, he is editing a volume enti- tled The Postwar Challenge: Cultural, Social, and Political Change in Western Europe, 1945–58 (forthcoming, 2003). His most recent publi- cations include Die Ära Adenauer (2002) and Thatchers konservative Re- volution: Der Richtungswandel der britischen Tories 1975–1979 (2002).

LOTHAR KETTENACKER is Deputy Director of the Institute and apl Professor at the University of Frankfurt/Main. From 1973 he ran the London office of the Deutsch-Britischer Historikerkreis, which was later to develop into the GHIL. His Ph.D. (Frankfurt, 1968) was on Nazi occupation policies in Alsace (1940–44), and he also completed a B.Litt. at Oxford in 1971 on Lord Acton and Döllinger. He has writ- ten a major study of British post-war planning for Germany during

162 Noticeboard the Second World War, as well as various articles on National Socialism and on British history in the 1930s and 1940s. He is cur- rently working on a study of German unification for the Longmans series, Turning Points in History. His most recent publication is Germany since 1945 (1997).

MARKUS MÖSSLANG, who came to the GHIL in 1999, studied modern and social history at the University of Munich. After com- pleting his MA he was a research assistant in the history department. His Ph.D. thesis on the integration of refugee teachers and scholars in West German schools and universities (1945–61) was published in 2002 as Flüchtlingslehrer und Flüchtlingshochschullehrer. He is co-editor of British Envoys to Germany, 1816–1866, vol. 2: 1830–1847 (2002) and is currently editing British Envoys to Germany, vol. 3: 1848–1850. His main fields of interest are history and the new media, the history of universities, and nineteenth-century British and German history.

KARSTEN PLÖGER joined the GHIL in January 2003 as a Research Fellow in Late Medieval and Modern History after completing his doctoral thesis at Balliol College, Oxford. Prior to that he studied his- tory, English, and philosophy at the University of Kiel, where he was also a research assistant for three years, and at the University of Aberdeen. His main fields of interest are the intellectual, cultural, and diplomatic history of Europe in the Middle Ages. In addition to continuing his work on English medieval diplomatic communica- tions in the thirteenth to fifteenth centuries, he is currently working on relations between the German nobility and England in the same period. He is the author of Englische Gesandtschaftsrechnungen (2000) and Die Entführung des Fieschi zu Avignon (1340): Zur Entwicklung der diplomatischen Immunität in der Frühphase des Hundertjährigen Krieges (forthcoming, 2003), and a co-author of Goldene Speisen in den Maien: Das Kochbuch des Augsburger Zunftbürgermeisters Ulrich Schwarz (†1478) (2000). His D.Phil. thesis on Anglo–Papal diplomacy in the mid-four- teenth century is currently being prepared for publication.

REGINA PÖRTNER, who joined the GHIL in 1998, took an MA in history (medieval, modern, economic) and German at the University of Bochum. She was a visiting student at Trinity College, Oxford, in 1988–89, and took her D.Phil. (Oxford) as a Rhodes Scholar in 1998.

163 Noticeboard

She is the author of The Counter-Reformation in Central Europe: Styria 1580–1630 (2001) and has recently edited the latest issue of the Insti- tute’s bibliography, Research on British History in the Federal Republic of Germany, 1998–2000 (2002). She is presently working on aspects of British legal and intellectual history in the eighteenth century.

MATTHIAS REISS joined the GHIL as a Research Fellow in 2002. He studied history, political science, and economics at the University of Hamburg, before changing to the University of Cincinnati (Ohio) in 1993, where he received his MA two years later. His main fields of interest are American, British, and German history in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries up to the Second World War. His Ph.D. was published in 2002 as Die Schwarzen waren unsere Freunde: Deutsche Kriegsgefangene in der amerikanischen Gesellschaft 1942–1946. He is cur- rently working on a study of the image of the unemployed in Eng- land and Germany from the middle of the nineteenth century to the 1970s.

TORSTEN RIOTTE joined the GHIL in January 2003. After finishing his Ph.D. on ‘Hanover in British Policy, 1792 to 1815’ at Cambridge University, he is now, with Markus Mößlang, in charge of the Insti- tute’s four-volume edition British Envoys to Germany, 1816 to 1866. The results of his research on Hanoverian Britain are about to be published in various forms, including an edited volume entitled The Hanoverian Dimension to British Policy.

MICHAEL SCHAICH, who joined the GHIL in 1999, was a student of history and media studies at the University of Munich. After com- pleting his MA he became a research assistant in the history depart- ment. His Ph.D. thesis on Enlightenment and Counter-Enlighten- ment in Bavaria was published in 2001 as Staat und Öffentlichkeit im Kurfürstentum Bayern der Spätaufklärung. During his time at the Insti- tute he is working on the relationship between monarchy and reli- gion in seventeenth- and eighteenth-century England.

BENEDIKT STUCHTEY joined the GHIL in 1995 after studying in Münster, Freiburg, and Trinity College Dublin. His main research interests are the history of historiography and the history of Euro- pean imperialism. He is currently working on anti-colonialism in the

164 Noticeboard twentieth century in a comparative perspective. He is the author of W.E.H. Lecky (1838–1903): Historisches Denken und politisches Urteilen eines anglo-irischen Gelehrten (1997), and has edited, with Peter Wende, British and German Historiography, 1750–1950: Traditions, Per- ceptions, and Transfers (2000) and, with Eckhardt Fuchs, Across Cultur- al Borders: Historiography in Global Perspective (2002) and Writing World History, 1800–2000 (forthcoming 2003). As well as editing the Bulletin of the GHIL, he is on the editorial board of European Review of History. Revue Européenne d’Histoire and of Storia della Storiografia. History of Historiography.

Renovations at 17 Bloomsbury Square

17 Bloomsbury Square is at present undergoing extensive renova- tions, after which the GHIL will occupy the entire building. While every effort is being made to keep Libary holdings available to read- ers during the building works, certain areas may have to be closed at short notice. If you intend to travel to visit the Library, or need to see anything in particular, it is advisable to telephone first (020 7309 2019/2022). Please note that the entire Library will be closed to the pub- lic from 12 May 2003 until further notice. For an update on progress, and information concerning the re-opening date, please telephone (numbers as above), or visit the Institute’s website: www.ghil.co.uk The works are due to continue until at least July, and we apologize for any disruption readers may experience.

Before They Perished . . . Photographs Found in Auschwitz

On Holocaust Memorial Day, Monday 27 January 2003, the German Historical Institute, the Institute of Contemporary History and Wiener Library, the Leo Baeck Institute London, and Kehayoff Publisher, Munich, hosted the presentation of the memorial book,

165 Noticeboard

Before They Perished . . . Photographs Found in Auschwitz. This event was organized in collaboration with the Fritz Bauer Institute, Frank- furt am Main, and was held at the Institute of Contemporary History and Wiener Library. Speakers on the occasion were H.E. Thomas Matussek, Ambassador of the Federal Republic of Germany, Professor A. J. Grenville, Birmingham, Arno Lustiger, Frankfurt am Main, and Dr Hanno Loewy, Fritz Bauer Institute, Frankfurt am Main.

Nationalism in Europe, 1789–1914

This conference, sponsored by the British Academy, the German History Society, the Association for the Study of Modern Italy, the Centre for Nineteenth-Century Studies at Sheffield University, and the German Historical Institute London was held at the GHIL on 24–5 April 2003.

Bucerius Lecture GHIL. Speaking of Europe

In co-operation with ZEIT-Stiftung Ebelin und Gerd Bucerius, Ham- burg, the German Historical Institute London is organizing the first Bucerius Lecture GHIL, to be given by Lord Dahrendorf, on the topic: ‘Europe and the West: Old and New Identities.’ It will be held on 21 May 2003, at 18.30, at the Institute of Directors. For further informa- tion please contact the Secretary, German Historical Institute, 17 Bloomsbury Square, London WC1A 2NJ.

166 Noticeboard

The Third Way in the Age of the Cold War

This joint conference between the GHIL and the Institut für Zeitge- schichte will be held on 4–6 July 2003 in Berlin-Lichterfelde.

Unity and Diversity in European Culture, c. 1800

This conference, organized jointly between the GHIL and the British Academy, will be held on 26–27 September at the British Academy.

Anglo–German Affinities and Antipathies in the Nineteenth Cen- tury

This conference, co-organized by the GHIL, School of Advanced Study, Birkbeck College, the Institute of Historical Research, and the Institute of Germanic Studies, will be held on 5–7 November at Senate House.

German History Society

The German History Society’s next AGM will take place on 6 December 2003 at the German Historical Institute London. For fur- ther information pleased contact: Dr Mark Hewitson, Dept. of German, University College London, Gower St., London WC1E 6BT [email protected]

167 LIBRARY NEWS

Recent Acquisitions

This list contains a selection of recent publications in German and English, primarily on German history, acquired by the Library of the GHIL in the past year.

Alemann, Ulrich von, Das Parteiensystem der Bundesrepublik Deutsch- land, Grundwissen Politik, 26 (2nd revised edn.: Opladen: Leske + Budrich, 2001) Andermann, Kurt (ed.), Rittersitze: Facetten adligen Lebens im Alten Reich, Kraichtaler Kolloquien, 3 (Tübingen: bibliotheca academica Verlag, 2002) Anderson, Malcolm, States and Nationalism in Europe since 1945, The Making of the Contemporary World (London: Routledge, 2000) Arning, Matthias, Späte Abrechnung: Über Zwangsarbeiter, Schlußstriche und Berliner Verständigungen (Frankfurt/M.: Fischer Taschenbuch Verlag, 2001) Ash, Timothy Garton, Wächst zusammen, was zusammengehört? Deutsch- land und Europa zehn Jahre nach dem Fall der Mauer: Vortrag im Rat- haus Schöneberg zu Berlin, 5. November 1999, Schriftenreihe der Bundeskanzler-Willy-Brandt-Stiftung, 8 (Berlin: Bundeskanzler- Willy-Brandt-Stiftung, 2001) Ashplant, T. G., Graham Dawson, and Michael Roper (eds.), The Po- litics of War Memory and Commemoration, Routledge Studies in Memory and Narrative, 7 (London: Routledge, 2000) Autorenkollektiv, Zehn Jahre ‘deutsche Einheit’: Der Nazi-Terror von Hoyerswerda bis Düsseldorf. Nazis, Staat und Medien, ein Braunbuch (Offenbach: Benario, Baum, 2000) Bade, Klaus J. (ed.), Integration und Illegalität in Deutschland (Osna- brück: Institut für Migrationsforschung und Interkulturelle Stu- dien, Universität Osnabrück, 2001)

168 Recent Acquisitions

Bade, Klaus J. (ed.), Migration in der europäischen Geschichte seit dem späten Mittelalter: Vorträge auf dem Deutschen Historikertag in Halle a.d. Saale, 11. September 2003, IMIS-Beiträge, 20 (Osnabrück: Insti- tut für Migrationsforschung und Interkulturelle Studien, Univer- sität Osnabrück, 2002) Bahlcke, Joachim and Arno Strohmeyer (eds.), Die Konstruktion der Vergangenheit: Geschichtsdenken, Traditionsbildung und Selbstdarstel- lung im frühneuzeitlichen Ostmitteleuropa, Zeitschrift für historische Forschung, Beiheft 29 (Berlin: Duncker & Humblot, 2002) Bald, Detlef, Johannes Klotz, and Wolfram Wette, Mythos Wehrmacht: Nachkriegsdebatten und Traditionspflege (Berlin: Aufbau Taschen- buch Verlag, 2001) Balke, Ralf, Hakenkreuz im heiligen Land: Die NSDAP-Landesgruppe Palästina (Erfurt: Sutton, 2001) Baumann, Ulrich, Zerstörte Nachbarschaften: Christen und Juden in badi- schen Landgemeinden 1862–1940, Studien zur jüdischen Geschichte, 7 (Hamburg: Dölling und Galitz, 2000) Baumgärtner, Ulrich, Reden nach Hitler. Theodor Heuss: Die Ausein- andersetzung mit dem Nationalsozialismus, Stiftung Bundesprä- sident-Theodor-Heuss-Haus, 4 (Stuttgart: Deutsche Verlags-An- stalt, 2001) Baus, Ralf Thomas, Die Christlich-Demokratische Union Deutschlands in der sowjetisch besetzten Zone 1945 bis 1948: Gründung, Programm, Politik, Forschungen und Quellen zur Zeitgeschichte, 36 (Düssel- dorf: Droste, 2001) Behrendt, Gideon, Mit dem Kindertransport in die Freiheit: Vom jüdi- schen Flüchtling zum Corporal O’Brian, ed. Claudia Curio (Frank- furt/M.: Fischer Taschenbuch Verlag, 2001) Bein, Reinhard, Zeitzeichen: Stadt und Land Braunschweig 1930–1945 (Brunswick: Döring, 2000) Benz, Wolfgang and Mona Körte (eds.), Rettung im Holocaust: Bedin- gungen und Erfahrungen des Überlebens, Solidarität und Hilfe, 4 (Berlin: Metropol, 2001) Benz, Wolfgang and Barbara Distel (eds.), Terror ohne System: Die ersten Konzentrationslager im Nationalsozialismus 1933–1935, Geschichte der Konzentrationslager 1933–1945, 1 (Berlin: Metropol, 2001) Bergmann, Werner, Geschichte des Antisemitismus (Munich: Beck, 2002)

169 Library News

Beusch, Carl Heiner, Adlige Standespolitik im Vormärz: Johann Wilhelm Graf von Mirbach-Harff (1784–1849), Historia profana et ecclesiasti- ca, 3 (Münster: Lit-Verlag, 2001) Beyrau, Dietrich (ed.), Der Krieg in religiösen und nationalen Deutungen der Neuzeit (Tübingen: edition diskord, 2001) Birken-Bertsch, Hanno and Reinhard Markner, Rechtschreibreform und Nationalsozialismus: Ein Kapitel aus der politischen Geschichte der deutschen Sprache (Göttingen: Wallstein Verlag, 2000) Black, Edwin, IBM and the Holocaust: The Strategic Alliance between Nazi Germany and America’s Most Powerful Corporation (London: Little, Brown & Co., 2001) Black, Jeremy, Historical Atlas of Britain: The End of the Middle Ages to the Georgian Era (Stroud: Sutton, 2000) Blatt, Thomas Toivi, From the Ashes of Sobibor: A Story of Survival, fore- word Christopher R. Browning (Evanston, Ill.: Northwestern Uni- versity Press, 2000) Blauert, Andreas and Gerd Schwerhoff (eds.), Kriminalitätsgeschichte: Beiträge zur Sozial- und Kulturgeschichte der Vormoderne, Konflikte und Kultur, 1 (Constance: UVK Universitätsverlag Konstanz, 2000) Blauert, Andreas, Das Urfehdewesen im deutschen Südwesten im Spät- mittelalter und in der frühen Neuzeit, Frühneuzeit-Forschungen, 7 (Tübingen: bibliotheca academica Verlag, 2000) Bloxham, Donald, Genocide on Trial: War Crimes Trials and the Forma- tion of Holocaust History and Memory (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001) Bösch, Frank with the assistance of Helge Matthiesen, Das konserva- tive Milieu: Vereinskultur und lokale Sammlungspolitik in ost- und westdeutschen Regionen (1900–1960), Veröffentlichungen des Zeit- geschichtlichen Arbeitskreises Niedersachsen, 19 (Göttingen: Wallstein Verlag, 2002) Bösch, Frank, Macht und Machtverlust: Die Geschichte der CDU (Stutt- gart: Deutsche Verlags-Anstalt, 2002) Borchmeyer, Dieter, Martin Walser und die Öffentlichkeit: Von einem neuerdings erhobenen unvornehmen Ton im Umgang mit einem Schrift- steller (Frankfurt/M.: Suhrkamp, 2001) Borgstedt, Angela, Entnazifizierung in Karlsruhe 1946 bis 1951: Politi- sche Säuberung im Spannungsfeld von Besatzungspolitik und lokalpoli- tischem Neuanfang, Karlsruher Beiträge zur Geschichte des Na- tionalsozialismus, 5 (Constance: UVK Verlagsgesellschaft, 2001)

170 Recent Acquisitions

Borowiec, Andrew, Destroy Warsaw! Hitler’s Punishment, Stalin’s Revenge (Westport, Conn.: Praeger, 2001) Braden, Jutta, Hamburger Judenpolitik im Zeitalter lutherischer Orthodoxie 1570–1710, Hamburger Beiträge zur Geschichte der deutschen Juden, 23 (Hamburg: Christians, 2001) Brandt, Willy, Die Partei der Freiheit: Willy Brandt und die SPD 1972– 1992, ed. Karsten Rudolph, Berliner Ausgabe, 5 (Bonn: Dietz, 2002) Brendle, Franz, Dieter Mertens, et al. (eds.), Deutsche Landesge- schichtsschreibung im Zeichen des Humanismus, Contubernium, 56 (Stuttgart: Steiner, 2001) Brenner, Michael, Geschichte des Zionismus (Munich: Beck, 2002) Breuilly, John J. (ed.), Nineteenth-Century Germany: Politics, Culture and Society 1780–1918 (London: Arnold, 2001) Brodersen, Ingke and Rüdiger Dammann, Geschichten einer Ausstel- lung: Zwei Jahrtausende deutsch-jüdische Geschichte (2nd edn.; Berlin: Jüdisches Museum Berlin, 2002) Buchloh, Stephan, ‘Pervers, jugendgefährdend, staatsfeindlich’: Zensur in der Ära Adenauer als Spiegel des gesellschaftlichen Klimas (Frank- furt/M.: Campus Verlag, 2002) Bundesministerium für Arbeit und Sozialordnung und Bundesarchiv (ed.), Geschichte der Sozialpolitik in Deutschland seit 1945, 2 vols (Baden-Baden: Nomos, 2001) Burckhardt, Jacob, Werke: Kritische Gesamtausgabe, ed. by the Jacob Burckhardt-Stiftung, Basel, vol. 2. Der Cicerone: Eine Anleitung zum Genuss der Kunstwerke Italiens. Architektur und Sculptur, ed. Bernd Roeck, Christine Tauber and Martin Warnke (Munich: Beck, 2001); vol. 3. Der Cicerone: Eine Anleitung zum Genuss der Kunstwerke Italiens. Malerei, ed. Bernd Roeck, Christine Tauber, and Martin Warnke (Munich: Beck, 2001); vol. 5. Die Baukunst der Renaissance in Italien: Nach der Erstausgabe der ‘Geschichte der Renaissance in Italien’, ed. Maurizio Ghelardi (Munich: Beck, 2000); vol. 6: Das Altarbild: Das Porträt in der Malerei. Die Sammler. Beiträge zur Kunstgeschichte von Italien, ed. Stella von Boch and Johannes Hartau (Munich: Beck, 2000); vol. 10: Aesthetik der bildenden Kunst: Über das Studium der Geschichte. Mit dem Text der ‘Weltgeschicht- lichen Betrachtungen’ in der Fassung von 1905, ed. Peter Ganz (Munich: Beck, 2000); vol. 19: Griechische Kulturgeschichte, pt. 1: Die Griechen und ihr Mythus: Die Polis, ed. Leonhard Burckhardt, Bar-

171 Library News

bara von Reibnitz, and Jürgen von Ungern-Sternberg (Munich: Beck, 2002), vol. 21: Griechische Culturgeschichte, pt. 3: Die Kunst. Die Poesie: Zur Philosophie und Wissenschaft, ed. Leonhard Burck- hardt, Fritz Graf, and Barbara von Reibnitz (Munich: Beck, 2002) Burschel, Peter, Götz Distelrath, et al. (eds.), Das Quälen des Körpers: Eine historische Anthropologie der Folter (Cologne: Böhlau, 2000) Bushkovitch, Paul, Peter the Great: The Struggle for Power, 1671–1725, New Studies in European History (Cambridge: Cambridge Uni- versity Press, 2001) Bussfeld, Christina, ‘Democracy versus Dictatorship’: Die Herausforde- rung des Faschismus und Kommunismus in Großbritannien 1932–1937 (Paderborn: Schöningh, 2001) Cartwright, Frederick F. and Michael Biddiss, Disease and History (rev. edn.; Stroud: Sutton, 2000) Conze, Eckart, Von deutschem Adel: Die Grafen von Bernstorff im zwanzigsten Jahrhundert (Stuttgart: Deutsche Verlags-Anstalt, 2000) Dahlmann, Hans-Christian, ‘Arisierung’ und Gesellschaft in Witten: Wie die Bevölkerung einer Ruhrgebietsstadt das Eigentum ihrer Jüdinnen und Juden übernahm, Politische Soziologie, 14 (Münster: Lit-Verlag, 2001) Deth, Jan van, Hans Rattinger, and Edeltraud Roller (eds.), Die Republik auf dem Weg zur Normalität? Wahlverhalten und politische Einstellungen nach acht Jahren Einheit, Veröffentlichungen des Ar- beitskreises ‘Wahlen und politische Einstellungen’ der Deutschen Vereinigung für Politische Wissenschaft, 7 (Opladen: Leske + Budrich, 2000) Diner, Dan, Beyond the Conceivable: Studies on Germany, Nazism, and the Holocaust (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2000) Distel, Barbara (ed.), Frauen im Holocaust (Gerlingen: Bleicher, 2001) Doehring, Karl, Bernd Josef Fehn, and Hans Günter Hockerts, Jahrhundertschuld, Jahrhundertsühne: Reparationen, Wiedergutma- chung, Entschädigung für nationalsozialistisches Kriegs- und Verfol- gungsunrecht (Munich: Olzog, 2001) Dölger, Karsten, ‘Polenlager Jägerslust’: Polnische ‘Displaced Persons’ in Schleswig-Holstein 1945–1949, Quellen und Forschungen zur Ge- schichte Schleswig-Holsteins, 110 (Neumünster: Wachholtz, 2000)

172 Recent Acquisitions

Doering-Manteuffel, Anselm and Hans-Peter Schwarz (eds.), Adenau- er und die deutsche Geschichte, Rhöndorfer Gespräche, 19; Veröf- fentlichungen der Stiftung Bundeskanzler-Adenauer-Haus (Bonn: Bouvier, 2001) Düding, Dieter, Heinz Kühn (1912–1992): Eine politische Biographie, Düsseldorfer Schriften zur neueren Landesgeschichte und zur Ge- schichte Nordrhein-Westfalens, 61 (Essen: Klartext Verlag, 2002) Dülffer, Jost (ed.), Köln in den 50er Jahren: Zwischen Tradition und Modernisierung, Veröffentlichungen des Kölnischen Geschichts- vereins, 44 (Cologne: SH-Verlag, 2001) Dünzelmann, Anne E., Vom Gaste, den Joden und den Fremden: Zur Ethnographie von Immigration, Rezeption und Exkludierung Fremder am Beispiel der Stadt Bremen vom Mittelalter bis 1848, Geschichte, 37 (Münster: Lit Verlag, 2001) Ebbinghaus, Angelika and Klaus Dörner (eds.), Vernichten und Heilen: Der Nürnberger Ärzteprozeß und seine Folgen (Berlin: Aufbau-Ver- lag, 2001) Ehmcke, Franziska and Peter Pantzer (eds.), Gelebte Zeitgeschichte: Alltag von Deutschen in Japan 1923–1947 (Munich: Iudicium, 2000) Evans, Richard John, Lying About Hitler: History, Holocaust, and the David Irving Trial (New York: Basic Books, 2001) Fahrmeir, Andreas, Citizens and Aliens: Foreigners and the Law in Britain and the German States, 1789–1870, Monographs in German History, 5 (New York: Berghahn Books, 2000) Falter, Jürgen, Oscar W. Gabriel, and Hans Rattinger (eds.), Wirklich ein Volk? Die politischen Orientierungen von Ost- und Westdeutschen im Vergleich (Opladen: Leske + Budrich, 2000) Faulenbach, Bernd and Heinrich Potthoff (eds.), Die deutsche Sozial- demokratie und die Umwälzung 1989/1990 (Essen: Klartext-Verlag, 2001) Faulstich, Werner, Die bürgerliche Mediengesellschaft (1700–1830), Ge- schichte der Medien, 4 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2002) Feilhauer, Angelika, Feste feiern in Deutschland: Ein Führer zu alten und neuen Volksfesten und Bräuchen (Zurich: Sanssouci, 2000) Firla, Monika (ed.), Exotisch, höfisch, bürgerlich: Afrikaner in Württem- berg vom 15. bis 19. Jahrhundert. Katalog zur Ausstellung des Haupt- staatsarchivs Stuttgart vom 14. März bis 29. Juni 2001 (Stuttgart: Hauptstaatsarchiv, 2001)

173 Library News

Fischer, Norbert, Geschichte des Todes in der Neuzeit (Erfurt: Sutton, 2001) Förster, Stig with the assistance of Timo Baumann et al. (eds.), An der Schwelle zum Totalen Krieg: Die militärische Debatte über den Krieg der Zukunft 1919–1939, Krieg in der Geschichte, 13 (Paderborn: Schöningh, 2002) Foster, Norman, Rebuilding the Reichstag, ed. David Jenkins (London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 2000) Frei, Norbert and Sybille Steinbacher (eds.), Beschweigen und Beken- nen: Die deutsche Nachkriegsgesellschaft und der Holocaust, Dachauer Symposien zur Zeitgeschichte, 1 (Göttingen: Wallstein Verlag, 2001) Frembs, Susanne, Nibelungenlied und Nationalgedanke nach Neunzehn- hundert: Über den Umgang der Deutschen mit ihrem ‘Nationalepos’ (Stuttgart: Ibidem-Verlag, 2001) Fried, Pankraz (ed.), ‘Hier ißt man anstadt Kardofln und Schwarzbrodt Pasteten...’: Die deutsche Überseewanderung des 19. Jahrhunderts in Zeitzeugnissen,Veröffentlichungen der Schwäbischen Forschungs- gemeinschaft, Reihe 9: Historische Migrationsforschung in Bayerisch-Schwaben, 1 (Augsburg: Wißner, 2000) Fröhlich, Stefan, ‘Auf den Kanzler kommt es an.’ Helmut Kohl und die deutsche Außenpolitik: Persönliches Regiment und Regierungshandeln vom Amtsantritt bis zur Wiedervereinigung (Paderborn: Schöningh, 2001) Fuchs, Eckhardt and Benedikt Stuchtey (eds.), Across Cultural Borders: Historiography in Global Perspective (Lanham, Md.: Rowman & Littlefield, 2002) Gay, Ruth, Das Undenkbare tun: Juden in Deutschland nach 1945, trans. Georgia Hanenberg (Munich: Beck, 2001) Gerlach, Christian and Götz Aly, Das letzte Kapitel: Realpolitik, Ideologie und der Mord an den ungarischen Juden 1944/45 (Stuttgart: Deutsche Verlags-Anstalt, 2002) Globig, Michael (ed.), Impulse geben, Wissen stiften: 40 Jahre Volks- wagenStiftung (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2002) Goethe-Institut Inter Nationes (ed.), Fünfzig Jahre Goethe-Institut: Murnau, Manila, Minsk (Munich: Beck, 2001)

174 Recent Acquisitions

Gornig, Manfred, Gesamtwirtschaftliche Leitsektoren und regionaler Strukturwandel: Eine theoretische und empirische Analyse der sekto- ralen und regionalen Wirtschaftsentwicklung in Deutschland 1895– 1987, Schriften zur Wirtschafts- und Sozialgeschichte, 59 (Berlin: Duncker & Humblot, 2000) Görtz, Franz Josef and Hans Sarkowicz, Heinz Rühmann: Der Schau- spieler und sein Jahrhundert (Munich: Beck, 2001) Graeb-Könneker, Sebastian (ed.), Literatur im Dritten Reich: Dokumen- te und Texte (Stuttgart: Reclam, 2001) Grimm, Dieter, Die Verfassung und die Politik: Einsprüche in Störfällen (Munich: Beck, 2001) Gross, Jan Tomasz, Neighbors: The Destruction of the Jewish Community in Jedwabne, Poland (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2001) Groß, Reiner, Geschichte Sachsens (2nd revised edn.; Leipzig: Edition Leipzig, 2002) Grosse, Rolf, Saint-Denis zwischen Adel und König: Die Zeit vor Suger (1053–1122), Francia, Beiheft 57 (Stuttgart: Thorbecke, 2002) Grunenberg, Antonia, Die Lust an der Schuld: Von der Macht der Ver- gangenheit über die Gegenwart (Berlin: Rowohlt, 2001) Gruner, Wolf, Öffentliche Wohlfahrt und Judenverfolgung: Wechselwir- kungen lokaler und zentraler Politik im NS-Staat (1933–1942), Studien zur Zeitgeschichte, 62 (Munich: Oldenbourg, 2002) Guthke, Karl S., Goethes Weimar und ‘Die große Öffnung in die weite Welt’, Wolfenbütteler Forschungen, 93 (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz in Kommission, 2001) Gutschow, Niels, Ordnungswahn: Architekten planen im ‘eingedeutschten Osten’ 1939–1945, Bauwelt Fundamente, 115 (Gütersloh: Bertels- mann Fachzeitschrift, 2001) Haffner, Sebastian, Als Engländer maskiert: Ein Gespäch mit Jutta Krug über das Exil (Stuttgart: Deutsche Verlags-Anstalt, 2002) Haffner, Sebastian, Die deutsche Frage, 1950–1961: Von der Wiederbe- waffnung bis zum Mauerbau, ed. Rainer Nitsche, trans. Sigrid Ruschmeier (Berlin: Transit Buchverlag, 2002) Haffner, Sebastian, Schreiben für die Freiheit, 1942 bis 1949: Als Journa- list im Sturm der Ereignisse, ed. Rainer Nitsche, trans. Sigrid Ruschmeier (Berlin: Transit, 2001) Haftendorn, Helga, Deutsche Außenpolitik zwischen Selbstbeschränkung und Selbstbehauptung: 1945–2000 (Stuttgart: Deutsche Verlags-An- stalt, 2001)

175 Library News

Hamilton, Alexander, John Jay, and James Madison, The Federalist (Indianapolis: Liberty Fund, 2001) Hampe, Karl-Alexander, Das Auswärtige Amt in Wilhelminischer Zeit (Münster: Scriptorium, 2001) Hanslok, Andreas, Die landesherrliche und kommunale Judenschutz- politik während des späten Mittelalters im Heiligen Römischen Reich Deutscher Nation: Ein Vergleich der Entwicklungen am Beispiel schle- sischer, brandenburgischer und rheinischer Städte (Berlin: Wissen- schaft Verlag Berlin, 2000) Harnisch, Sebastian and Hanns W. Maull (eds.), Germany as a Civilian Power? The Foreign Policy of the Berlin Republic, Issues in German Politics (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2001) Harris, Mark Jonathan and Deborah Oppenheimer, Into the Arms of Strangers: Stories of the Kindertransport, preface Richard Atten- borough, introduction David Cesarani (London: Bloomsbury, 2000) Hartmann, Peter Claus, Kulturgeschichte des Heiligen Römischen Reiches, 1648 bis 1806: Verfassung, Religion und Kultur, Studien zu Politik und Verwaltung, 72 (Vienna: Böhlau, 2001) Hartmann, Peter Claus (ed.), Reichskirche, Mainzer Kurstaat, Reichserz- kanzler, Mainzer Studien zur neueren Geschichte, 6 (Frank- furt/M.: Lang, 2001) Hausmann, Frank-Rutger, ‘Vom Strudel der Ereignisse verschlungen’: Deutsche Romanistik im ‘Dritten Reich’, Analecta Romanica, 61 (Frankfurt/M.: Klostermann, 2000) Heneghan, Tom, Unchained Eagle: Germany after the Wall (London: Pearson Education, 2000) Hentschke, Felicitas, Demokratisierung als Ziel der amerikanischen Be- satzungspolitik in Deutschland und Japan, 1943–1947, Studien zu Ge- schichte, Politik und Gesellschaft Nordamerikas, 16 (Münster: Lit- Verlag, 2001) Herbst, Maral, Demokratie und Maulkorb: Der deutsche Rundfunk in Berlin zwischen Staatsgründung und Mauerbau (Berlin: Vistas Ver- lag, 2002) Herz, Dietmar, Die Europäische Union (Munich: Beck, 2002) Herz, Dietmar, Christian Jetzlsperger, and Marc Schattenmann (eds.), Die Vereinten Nationen: Entwicklung, Aktivitäten, Perspektiven (Frankfurt/M.: Fischer Taschenbuch Verlag, 2002)

176 Recent Acquisitions

Hesse, Hans, Augen aus Auschwitz: Ein Lehrstück über nationalsozialisti- schen Rassenwahn und medizinische Forschung. Der Fall Dr. Karin Magnussen (Essen: Klartext Verlag, 2001) Hesse, Klaus and Philipp Springer, Vor aller Augen: Fotodokumente des nationalsozialistischen Terrors in der Provinz (Essen: Klartext Verlag, 2002) Heuberger, Georg and Fritz Backhaus (eds.), Leo Baeck, 1873–1956: Aus dem Stamme von Rabbinern (Frankfurt/M.: Jüdischer Verlag im Suhrkamp Verlag, 2001) Hillmann, Jörg and John Zimmermann (eds.), Kriegsende 1945 in Deutschland, Beiträge zur Militärgeschichte, 55 (Munich: Olden- bourg, 2002) Hirschinger, Frank, ‘Zur Ausmerzung freigegeben’: Halle und die Landes- heilanstalt Altscherbitz 1933–1945, Schriften des Hannah-Arendt- Instituts für Totalitarismusforschung, 16 (Cologne: Böhlau, 2001) Höhn, Maria, GIs and Fräuleins: The German–American Encounter in 1950s West Germany (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2002) Hoffmann, Dierk and Hermann Wentker (eds.), Das letzte Jahr der SBZ: Politische Weichenstellungen und Kontinuitäten im Prozeß der Gründung der DDR, Veröffentlichungen zur SBZ-/DDR-For- schung im Institut für Zeitgeschichte, Schriftenreihe der Viertel- jahrshefte für Zeitgeschichte, special edition (Munich: Olden- bourg, 2000) Hornung, Klaus, Hans Rothfels und die Nationalitätenfragen in Ostmitteleuropa 1926–1934: In Erinnerung an den 12. April 1891 und an den 22. Juni 1976, ed. Kulturstiftung der Deutschen Vertriebe- nen, Deutschland und seine Nachbarn, 28 (Bonn: Kulturstiftung der Deutschen Vertriebenen, 2001) Hough, Dan, The Fall and Rise of the PDS in Eastern Germany (Birmingham: University of Birmingham Press, 2001) Hüfner, Oliver, Die Struktur politischer Mythen: Wiedervereinigung und Wirtschaftswunder in den Reden bundesdeutscher Politiker 1949–1969, Forschung Politikwissenschaft, 120 (Opladen: Leske + Budrich, 2001) Ignor, Alexander, Geschichte des Strafprozesses in Deutschland 1532– 1846: Von der Carolina Karls V. bis zu den Reformen des Vormärz, Rechts- und Staatswissenschaftliche Veröffentlichungen der Gör- res-Gesellschaft, NS 97 (Paderborn: Schöningh, 2002)

177 Library News

Imhoff, Andreas and Michael Martin (eds.), Die Landauer Jakobiner- protokolle: 1791–1794, Stiftung zur Förderung der Pfälzischen Ge- schichtsforschung, Reihe A: Pfälzische Geschichtsquellen, 3 (Neustadt an der Weinstraße: Stiftung zur Förderung der Pfäl- zischen Geschichtsforschung, Selbstverlag, 2001) Ingen, Ferdinand van and Cornelia Niekus Moore (eds.), Gebets- literatur der Frühen Neuzeit als Hausfrömmigkeit: Funktionen und Formen in Deutschland und den Niederlanden, Wolfenbütteler For- schungen, 92 (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz in Kommission, 2001) Jacoby, Wade, Imitation and Politics: Redesigning Modern Germany (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 2000) James, Harold, The End of Globalization: Lessons from the Great Depression (3rd impr.; Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 2001) Janssen, Helmut, Die Übertragung von Rechtsvorstellungen auf fremde Kulturen am Beispiel des englischen Kolonialrechts: Ein Beitrag zur Rechtsvergleichung, Studien zum ausländischen und interna- tionalen Privatrecht, 79 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2000) Jeep, John M. (ed.), Medieval Germany: An Encyclopedia (New York: Garland Publications, 2001) Jeismann, Michael, Auf Wiedersehen Gestern: Die deutsche Vergangenheit und die Politik von morgen (Stuttgart: Deutsche Verlags-Anstalt, 2001) Jenks, Stuart and Stephanie Marra (eds.), Internet-Handbuch Geschichte (Cologne: Böhlau, 2001) Joachimsthaler, Anton, Hitlers Weg begann in München 1913–1923, intro. Ian Kershaw (revised edn.; Munich: Herbig, 2000) Joetze, Günter, Der letzte Krieg in Europa? Das Kosovo und die deutsche Politik (Stuttgart: Deutsche Verlags-Anstalt, 2001) Kaesler, Dirk and Ludgera Vogt (eds.), Hauptwerke der Soziologie (Stuttgart: Kröner, 2000) Kagan, Jack and Dov Cohen, Surviving the Holocaust with the Russian Jewish Partisans, foreword Sir Martin Gilbert (2nd edn.; London: Vallentine Mitchell, 2000) Kamp, Hermann, Friedensstifter und Vermittler im Mittelalter, Symbo- lische Kommunikation in der Vormoderne (Darmstadt: Wissen- schaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 2001) Kattago, Siobhan, Ambiguous Memory: The Nazi Past and German Na- tional Identity (Westport, Conn.: Praeger, 2001)

178 Recent Acquisitions

Keller, Hagen, Die Ottonen (Munich: Beck, 2001) Kempf, Udo, Hans-Georg Merz (eds.), Kanzler und Minister 1949–1998: Biografisches Lexikon der deutschen Bundesregierungen (Wiesbaden: Westdeutscher Verlag, 2001) Kennedy, Aubrey Leo, The Times and Appeasement: The Journals of A. L. Kennedy, 1932–1939, ed. Gordon Martel, Camden Fifth Series, 16 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000) Kilian, Achim, Mühlberg, 1939–1948: Ein Gefangenenlager mitten in Deutschland, Geschichte und Politik in Sachsen, 17 (Cologne: Böhlau, 2001) Kitching, Laurence (ed.), Die Geschichte des deutschsprachigen Theaters im Ausland: Von Afrika bis Wisconsin—Anfänge und Entwicklungen, Thalia Germanica, 2 (Frankfurt/M.: Lang, 2000) Klessmann, Christoph (ed.), The Divided Past: Rewriting Post-War German History, German Historical Perspectives, 15 (Oxford: Berg, 2001) Klingemann, Hans-Dieter and Max Kaase (eds.), Wahlen und Wähler: Analysen aus Anlass der Bundestagswahl 1998, Schriften des Otto- Stammer Zentrums im Otto-Suhr-Institut der Freien Universität Berlin, 90 (Wiesbaden: Westdeutscher Verlag, 2001) Knoch, Habbo, Die Tat als Bild: Fotografien des Holocaust in der deutschen Erinnerungskultur (Hamburg: Hamburger Edition, 2001) Koch, Walter, Maria Glaser, and Franz-Albrecht Bornschlegel, Literaturbericht zur mittelalterlichen und neuzeitlichen Epigraphik (1992–1997), Monumenta Germaniae Historica, 19 (Hanover: Hahn, 2000) Kochavi, Arieh J., Post-Holocaust Politics: Britain, the United States and Jewish Refugees, 1945–1948 (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2001) Kocka, Jürgen and Claus Offe with the assistance of Beate Redslob (eds.), Geschichte und Zukunft der Arbeit (Frankfurt/M.: Campus Verlag, 2000) Köhler, Henning, Deutschland auf dem Weg zu sich selbst: Eine Jahrhundertgeschichte (Stuttgart: Hohenheim Verlag, 2002) Koschmal, Walter, Marek Nekula, and Joachim Rogall (eds.), Deutsche und Tschechen: Geschichte, Kultur, Politik, intro. Václav Havel (Munich: Beck, 2001) Krockow, Christian Graf von, Hitler und seine Deutschen (2nd edn.; Munich: List, 2001)

179 Library News

Krohn, Claus-Dieter, Erwin Rotermund, et al. (eds.), Metropolen des Exils, Exilforschung, 20 (Munich: edition text + kritik, 2002) Kuehn, Manfred, Kant: A Biography (Cambridge: Cambridge Uni- versity Press, 2001) Kunisch, Johannes (ed.), Dreihundert Jahre Preußische Königskrönung: Eine Tagungsdokumentation, Forschungen zur Brandenburgischen und Preußischen Geschichte, NS Beiheft 6 (Berlin: Duncker & Humblot, 2002) Kurland, Philip B. and Ralph Lerner (eds.), The Founders’ Constitution, 5 vols. (Indianapolis: Liberty Fund, 2000) Lang, Wolfgang, Historische Feste in Bayern: Entstehung und Entwick- lung im 19. und 20. Jahrhundert, Bayerische Studien zur Geschichts- didaktik, 4 (Neuried: Ars Una, 2001) Larres, Klaus, Churchill’s Cold War: The Politics of Personal Diplomacy (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2002) Law, Cheryl, Suffrage and Power: The Women’s Movement 1918–1928, Social and Cultural History Today (London: Tauris, 2000) Leggewie, Claus and Horst Meier (eds.), Verbot der NPD oder Mit Rechtsradikalen leben? Die Positionen (Frankfurt/M.: Suhrkamp, 2002) Lenger, Friedrich (ed.), Towards an Urban Nation: Germany Since 1780, German Historical Perspectives, 16 (Oxford: Berg, 2002) Lenz, Gertrud, Struggle for Freedom: Willy Brandt 1913–1992. Perma- nent Exhibition of the Federal Chancellor Willy Brandt Foundation and of the Willy Brandt Archive in the Archives of Social Democracy of the Friedrich Ebert Foundation at the Schöneberg City Hall in Berlin, ex- hibition catalogue (Berlin: Bundeskanzler-Willy-Brandt-Stiftung, 2001) Leonhard, Jörn and Lothar Funk (eds.), Ten Years of German Unifi- cation: Transfer, Transformation, Incorporation? (Birmingham: Uni- versity Press, 2002) Leutheusser, Ulrike with the assistance of Astrid Harms and Thomas Hausner (eds.), Hitler und die Frauen (Stuttgart: Deutsche Verlags- Anstalt, 2001) Levin, Itamar, His Majesty’s Enemies: Great Britain’s War Against Holocaust Victims and Survivors, trans. Natasha Dornberg and Judith Yalon-Fortus, foreword by Avraham Hirschson (Westport, Conn.: Praeger, 2001)

180 Recent Acquisitions

London, John (ed.), Theatre under the Nazis (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2000) London, Louise, Whitehall and the Jews, 1933–1948: British Immigration Policy, Jewish Refugees and the Holocaust (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000) Mandler, Peter, History and National Life (London: Profile Books, 2002) Mathematisches Calcul und Sinn für Ästhetik: Die preußische Bauverwal- tung 1770–1848. Ausstellung des Geheimen Staatsarchivs Preußischer Kulturbesitz in Zusammenarbeit mit der Kunstbibliothek der Staatli- chen Museen zu Berlin Preußischer Kulturbesitz (Berlin: Duncker & Humblot, 2000) Meder, Stephan, Rechtsgeschichte: Eine Einführung (Cologne: Böhlau, 2002) Meehan, Patricia, A Strange Enemy People: Germans under the British, 1945–1950 (London: Owen, 2001) Mehnert, Elke (ed.), Landschaften der Erinnerung: Flucht und Ver- treibung aus deutscher, polnischer und tschechischer Sicht, Studien zur Reiseliteratur- und Imagologieforschung, 5 (Frankfurt/M.: Lang, 2001) Meiners, Werner, Nordwestdeutsche Juden zwischen Umbruch und Be- harrung: Judenpolitik und jüdisches Leben im Oldenburger Land bis 1827, Veröffentlichungen der Historischen Kommission für Niedersachsen und Bremen, 204 (Hanover: Hahn, 2001) Metelmann, Henry, Through Hell for Hitler: A Dramatic First-Hand Account of Fighting on the Eastern Front with the Wehrmacht (Staplehurst: Spellmount, 2001) Metzler, Gabriele, Internationale Wissenschaft und nationale Kultur: Deutsche Physiker in der internationalen Community 1900–1960 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2000) Mierzejewski, Alfred C., The Most Valuable Asset of the Reich: A History of the German National Railway, 2 vols. (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1999–2000) Miller-Kipp, Gisela (ed.), ‘Auch Du gehörst dem Führer’: Die Geschichte des Bundes Deutscher Mädel in Quellen und Dokumenten (2nd revised edn.: Weinheim: Juventa Verlag, 2001) Mittelsdorf, Harald (ed.), Das preußische Thüringen: Abhandlungen zur Geschichte seiner Volksvertretungen, Schriften zur Geschichte des Parlamentarismus in Thüringen, 17 (Rudolstadt: Hain Verlag, 2001)

181 Library News

Moers-Messmer, Wolfgang von, Heidelberg und seine Kurfürsten: Die große Zeit der Geschichte Heidelbergs als Haupt- und Residenzstadt der Kurpfalz (Ubstadt-Weiher: Verlag Regionalkultur, 2001) Moyle, Lachlan, Deutschland und seine Nachbarn: Briten, Franzosen, Niederländer und Polen blicken auf Deutschland (Hanover: Nieder- sächsische Landeszentrale für politische Bildung, 2000) Mohr, Philipp Caspar, ‘Kein Recht zur Einmischung?’: Die politische und völkerrechtliche Reaktion Großbritanniens auf Hitlers ‘Machtergreifung’ und die einsetzende Judenverfolgung, Beiträge zur Rechtsgeschichte des 20. Jahrhunderts, 31 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2002) Moser, Johann Jakob, Grund-Riss der heutigen Staatsverfassung des Teutschen Reichs, Bibliothek des öffentlichen Rechts, Altes Reich, 6 (reprint of 7th edn. 1754; Goldbach: Keip, 2001) Mößlang, Markus, Flüchtlingslehrer und Flüchtlingshochschullehrer: Eine Studie zur Integration der Flüchtlinge und Vertriebenen im bayer- ischen Bildungswesen 1945–1961, Die Entwicklung Bayerns durch die Integration der Vertriebenen und Flüchtlinge, 8 (Munich: Iu- dicium, 2002) Müller, Frank Lorenz, Britain and the German Question: Perceptions of Nationalism and Political Reform, 1830–63 (Basingstoke: Palgrave, 2002) Neugebauer, Wolfgang, Zentralprovinz im Absolutismus: Brandenburg im 17. und 18. Jahrhundert, Bibliothek der Brandenburgischen und Preußischen Geschichte, 5; Brandenburgische Geschichte in Einzeldarstellungen, 4 (Berlin: Berlin-Verlag, 2001) Neuhaus, Helmut and Barbara Stollberg-Rilinger (eds.), Menschen und Strukturen in der Geschichte Alteuropas: Festschrift für Johannes Kunisch zur Vollendung seines 65. Lebensjahres, dargebracht von Schü- lern, Freunden und Kollegen, Historische Forschungen, 73 (Berlin: Duncker & Humblot, 2002) Nicolaysen, Rainer, Der lange Weg zur VolkswagenStiftung: Eine Grün- dungsgeschichte im Spannungsfeld von Politik, Wirtschaft und Wissen- schaft (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2002) Nolte, Ernst, Der kausale Nexus: Über Revisionen und Revisionismen in der Geschichtswissenschaft. Studien, Artikel und Vorträge 1990–2000 (Munich: Herbig, 2002) Overy, Richard, Interrogations: The Nazi Elite in Allied Hands, 1945 (London: Penguin, 2001)

182 Recent Acquisitions

Pauwen, Klaus, Die Entwicklung der europäischen Sozialpolitik bis zum Vorfeld der Revision des Maastrichter Vertrages, Studien zur Politik- wissenschaft, Abt. B: Forschungsberichte und Dissertationen, 95 (Münster: Lit-Verlag, 2001) Pelt, Robert Jan van, The Case for Auschwitz: Evidence from the Irving Trial (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2002) Pierenkemper, Toni, Die Industrialisierung europäischer Montanre- gionen im 19. Jahrhundert, Regionale Industrialisierung, 3 (Stutt- gart: Steiner, 2002) Probert, Henry, Bomber Harris: His Life and Times. The Biography of Marshal of the Royal Air Force Sir Arthur Harris, the Wartime Chief of Bomber Command (London: Greenhill Books, 2001) Probst, Lothar, Die PDS, von der Staats- zur Regierungspartei: Eine Studie aus Mecklenburg-Vorpommern, Politica, 39 (Hamburg: Kovac, 2000) Pröve, Ralf and Norbert Winnige (eds.), Wissen ist Macht: Herrschaft und Kommunikation in Brandenburg-Preußen 1600–1850, Schriften- reihe des Forschungsinstituts für die Geschichte Preußens, 2 (Berlin: Berlin Verlag, 2001) Puetter, Johann Stephan, Grundriß der Staatsveränderungen des Teutschen Reichs, Bibliothek des Öffentlichen Rechts, Altes Reich, 10 (reprint of 7th edn. 1795; Goldbach: Keip, 2001) Quellen zur Reichsreform im Spätmittelalter, selected and trans. Lorenz Weinrich, Freiherr vom Stein-Gedächtnisausgabe, Reihe A: Aus- gewählte Quellen zur deutschen Geschichte des Mittelalters, 39 (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 2001) Rathert, Ronald, Verbrechen und Verschwörung. Arthur Nebe: Der Kripo- chef des Dritten Reiches, Anpassung, Selbstbehauptung, Widerstand, 17 (Münster: Lit, 2001) Recker, Marie-Luise, Geschichte der Bundesrepublik Deutschland (Mu- nich: Beck, 2002) Recker, Marie-Luise, Burkhard Jellonnek, and Bernd Rauls (eds.), Bilanz: 50 Jahre Bundesrepublik Deutschland, Geschichte, Politik und Gesellschaft, 5 (St Ingbert: Röhrig, 2001) Reemtsma, Jan Philipp, ‘Wie hätte ich mich verhalten?’ und andere nicht nur deutsche Fragen: Reden und Aufsätze (Munich: Beck, 2001) Reimann, Aribert, Der große Krieg der Sprachen: Untersuchungen zur hi- storischen Semantik in Deutschland und England zur Zeit des Ersten Weltkriegs, Schriften der Bibliothek für Zeitgeschichte, NS 12 (Essen: Klartext Verlag, 2000)

183 Library News

Reiß, Matthias, ‘Die Schwarzen waren unsere Freunde’: Deutsche Kriegs- gefangene in der amerikanischen Gesellschaft 1942–1946, Krieg in der Geschichte, 11 (Paderborn: Schöningh, 2002) Riesenberger, Dieter, Das Deutsche Rote Kreuz: Eine Geschichte 1864– 1990 (Paderborn: Schöningh, 2002) Rißmann, Michael, Hitlers Gott: Vorsehungsglaube und Sendungsbe- wußtsein des deutschen Diktators (Zurich: Pendo Verlag, 2001) Robinson, Barbara M., The Hull German Lutheran Church 1848–1998 (Beverley: Highgate, 2000) Rock, David and Stefan Wolff (eds.), Coming Home to Germany? The Integration of Ethnic Germans from Central and Eastern Europe in the Federal Republic, Culture and Society in Germany, 4 (New York: Berghahn Books, 2002) Rösener, Werner (ed.), Adelige und bürgerliche Erinnerungskulturen des Spätmittelalters und der Frühen Neuzeit, Formen der Erinnerung, 8 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2000) Rogg, Matthias, Landsknechte und Reisläufer: Bilder vom Soldaten. Ein Stand in der Kunst des 16. Jahrhunderts, Krieg in der Geschichte, 5 (Paderborn: Schöningh, 2002) Rosseaux, Ulrich, Die Kipper und Wipper als publizistisches Ereignis (1620–1626): Eine Studie zu den Strukturen öffentlicher Kommunika- tion im Zeitalter des Dreißigjährigen Krieges, Schriften zur Wirtschafts- und Sozialgeschichte, 67 (Berlin: Duncker & Humblot, 2001) Rubinstein, William D., The Myth of Rescue: Why the Democracies Could Not Have Saved More Jews From the Nazis (London: Routledge, 2000) Sabrow, Martin, Herr und Hanswurst: Das tragische Schicksal des Hofgelehrten Jacob Paul von Gundling (Stuttgart: Deutsche Verlags- Anstalt, 2001) Salewsky, Anja, ‘Der olle Hitler soll sterben!’: Erinnerungen an den jüdi- schen Kindertransport nach England (Munich: Claassen, 2001) Sandner, Harald, Das Haus Sachsen-Coburg und Gotha: Eine Dokumen- tation zum 175-jährigen Jubiläum des Stammhauses in Wort und Bild (1826 bis 2001) (Coburg: Neue Presse, [2001]) Schaad, Martin P. C., Bullying Bonn: Anglo-German Diplomacy on Euro- pean Integration, 1955–61 (Basingstoke: Macmillan, 2000) Schissler, Hanna (ed.), The Miracle Years: A Cultural History of West Germany, 1949–1968 (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2001)

184 Recent Acquisitions

Schlant, Ernestine, Die Sprache des Schweigens: Die deutsche Literatur und der Holocaust, trans. Holger Fliessbach (Munich: Beck, 2001) Schmelz, Andrea, Migration und Politik im geteilten Deutschland während des Kalten Krieges: Die West-Ost-Migration in die DDR in den 1950er und 1960er Jahren, Forschung Politik, 43 (Opladen: Leske + Budrich, 2002) Schmidt, Dennis J., On Germans and Other Greeks: Tragedy and Ethical Life (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2001) Schmidt, Helmut and Sandra Maischberger, Hand aufs Herz: Helmut Schmidt im Gespräch mit Sandra Maischberger (2nd edn.; Munich: Econ, 2002) Schmidtke, Evelyn, Der Bundeskanzler im Spannungsfeld zwischen Kan- zlerdemokratie und Parteiendemokratie: Ein Vergleich der Regierungs- stile Konrad Adenauers und Helmut Kohls (Marburg: Tectum Verlag, 2001) Schnabel, Thomas, Geschichte von Baden-Württemberg 1952–2002 (Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 2001) Schneider, Gertrude, Journey into Terror: Story of the Riga Ghetto (new expanded edn.; Westport, Conn.: Praeger, 2001) Schönhoven, Klaus, Arbeiterbewegung und soziale Demokratie in Deutschland: Ausgewählte Beiträge, ed. Hans-Jochen Vogel and Michael Ruck, Politik- und Gesellschaftsgeschichte, 59 (Bonn: Dietz, 2002) Schönwälder, Karen and Imke Sturm-Martin (eds.), Die britische Ge- sellschaft zwischen Offenheit und Abgrenzung: Einwanderung und Integration vom 18. bis zum 20. Jahrhundert, Veröffentlichungen des Arbeitskreises Deutsche England-Forschung, 46 (Berlin: Philo Verlagsgesellschaft, 2001) Schönwälder, Karen, Einwanderung und ethnische Pluralität: Politische Entscheidungen und öffentliche Debatten in Großbritannien und der Bundesrepublik von den 1950er bis zu den 1970er Jahren (Essen: Klartext Verlag, 2001) Schopenhauer, Johanna, Im Wechsel der Zeiten, im Gedränge der Welt: Jugenderinnerungen, Tagebücher, Briefe (Düsseldorf: Artemis & Winkler, 2000) Schröm, Oliver with the assistance of Andrea Röpke, Stille Hilfe für braune Kameraden: Das geheime Netzwerk der Alt- und Neonazis (2nd revised edn.; Berlin: Links, 2002)

185 Library News

Schumann, Silke, ‘Die Frau aus dem Erwerbsleben wieder herausnehmen’: NS-Propaganda und Arbeitsmarktpolitik in Sachsen 1933–1939, Hannah-Arendt-Institut für Totalitarismusforschung, Berichte und Studien 27 (Dresden: Hannah-Arendt-Institut für Totalitaris- musforschung, 2000) Schwinges, Rainer Christoph (ed.), Neubürger im späten Mittelalter: Migration und Austausch in der Städtelandschaft des alten Reiches (1250–1550), Zeitschrift für historische Forschung, Beiheft 30 (Berlin: Duncker & Humblot, 2002) Seidler, Franz W. and Dieter Zeigert, Die Führerhauptquartiere: Anlagen und Planungen im Zweiten Weltkrieg (3rd edn.; Munich: Herbig, 2001) Seller, Maxine Schwartz, We Built Up Our Lives: Education and Com- munity Among Jewish Refugees Interned by Britain in World War II, Contributions to the Study of World History, 92 (Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 2001) Simms, Brendan, Unfinest Hour: Britain and the Destruction of Bosnia (London: Allen Lane, 2001) Soukup, Uwe, Ich bin nun mal Deutscher. Sebastian Haffner: Eine Biographie (Berlin: Aufbau-Verlag, 2001) Speer, Albert, ‘Alles, was ich weiߒ: Aus unbekannten Geheimdienstpro- tokollen vom Sommer 1945. Mit einem Bericht ‘Frauen um Hitler’ von Karl Brandt, ed. Ulrich Schlie (Munich: Herbig, 2000) Stambolis, Barbara, Religiöse Festkultur. Tradition und Neuformierung katholischer Frömmigkeit im 19. und 20. Jahrhundert: Das Liborifest in Paderborn und das Kilianifest in Würzburg im Vergleich, Forschungen zur Regionalgeschichte, 38 (Paderborn: Schöningh, 2000) Steinert, Johannes-Dieter and Inge Weber-Newth, Labour and Love: Deutsche in Großbritannien nach dem Zweiten Weltkrieg (Osnabrück: secolo-Verlag, 2000) Stöver, Bernd, Die Befreiung vom Kommunismus: Amerikanische Liberation Policy im Kalten Krieg 1947–1991, Zeithistorische Studien, 22 (Cologne: Böhlau, 2002) Stollberg-Rilinger, Barbara (ed.), Das Hofreisejournal des Kurfürsten Clemens August von Köln 1719–1745, Ortstermine, 12 (Siegburg: Rheinlandia Verlag, 2000) Stüwe, Klaus (ed.), Die großen Regierungserklärungen der deutschen Bundeskanzler von Adenauer bis Schröder (Opladen: Leske + Budrich, 2002)

186 Recent Acquisitions

Stulz-Herrnstadt, Nadja, Berliner Bürgertum im 18. und 19. Jahrhundert: Unternehmerkarrieren und Migration. Familien und Verkehrskreise in der Hauptstadt Brandenburg-Preußens. Die Ältesten der Korporation der Kaufmannschaft zu Berlin, Veröffentlichungen der Historischen Kommission zu Berlin, 99 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2002) Süß, Werner (ed.), Deutschland in den neunziger Jahren: Politik und Ge- sellschaft zwischen Wiedervereinigung und Globalisierung (Opladen: Leske + Budrich, 2002) Teske, Gunnar (ed.), Dreißigjähriger Krieg und Westfälischer Friede: For- schungen aus westfälischen Adelsarchiven. Vorträge auf dem Kollo- quium der Vereinigten Westfälischen Adelsarchive vom 3.-4. Dezember 1998 in Münster, Vereinigte Westfälische Adelsarchive, 13 (Mün- ster: SelbstVerlag der Vereinigten Westfälischen Adelsarchive, 2000) Thaller, Manfred (ed.), Codices Electronici Ecclesiae Coloniensis: Eine mittelalterliche Kathedralbibliothek in digitaler Form, Fundus, Beiheft 1 (Göttingen: Duehrkohp & Radicke, 2001) Trommler, Frank and Elliott Shore (eds.), The German-American Encounter: Conflict and Cooperation between Two Cultures, 1800–2000 (New York: Berghahn Books, 2001) Ummenhofer, Stefan, Hin zum Schreiten Seit’ an Seit’? SPD und katholische Kirche seit 1957 (Berlin: Logos Verlag, 2000) Vierhaus, Rudolf and Ludolf Herbst with the assistance of Bruno Jahn (eds.), Biographisches Handbuch der Mitglieder des Deutschen Bundestages 1949–2002, 3 vols. (Munich: Saur, 2002–2003) Voigt, Rüdiger (ed.), Krieg, Instrument der Politik? Bewaffnete Konflikte im Übergang vom 20. zum 21. Jahrhundert (Baden-Baden: Nomos Verlagsgesellschaft, 2002) Vormweg, Heinrich, Der andere Deutsche. Heinrich Böll: Eine Biographie (2nd edn.; Cologne: Kiepenheuer & Witsch, 2000) Wahl, Johannes, Lebensplanung und Alltagserfahrung: Württembergische Pfarrfamilien im 17. Jahrhundert, Veröffentlichungen des Instituts für Europäische Geschichte Mainz, 181: Abteilung für Abendlän- dische Religionsgeschichte (Mainz: von Zabern, 2000) Warbeck, Johannes, Die Umwandlung der DDR-Landwirtschaft im Prozeß der Deutschen Wiedervereinigung: Ökonomische Zwänge, poli- tische Entscheidungen, Analysen zum Wandel politisch-ökonomi- scher Systeme, 14 (Frankfurt/M.: Lang, 2001)

187 Library News

Weizsäcker, Richard von, Drei Mal Stunde Null? 1949. 1969. 1989: Deutschlands europäische Zukunft (2nd edn.; Berlin: Siedler, 2001) Wesel, Uwe, Geschichte des Rechts: Von den Frühformen bis zur Gegen- wart (2nd revised and expanded edn.; Munich: Beck, 2001) Whyte, Ian D., Migration and Society in Britain: 1550–1830 (Basing- stoke: Macmillan, 2000) Wiesen, S. Jonathan, West German Industry and the Challenge of the Nazi Past, 1945–1955 (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2001) Wilms, Heinrich (ed.), Dokumente zur Entstehung des Grundgesetzes 1948 und 1949, vol. 2: Vorschläge, Entwürfe und in Kraft getretene Fassungen des Grundgesetzes 1949–1999 (Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 2001) Wolf, Hubert, Johann Michael Sailer: Das postume Inquisitionsverfahren, Römische Inquisition und Indexkongregation, 2 (Paderborn: Schöningh, 2002) Wrightson, Keith, Earthly Necessities: Economic Lives in Early Modern Britain (New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 2000) Zarusky, Jürgen (ed.), Die Stalin-Note vom 10. März 1952: Neue Quellen und Analysen, Schriftenreihe der Vierteljahrshefte für Zeitge- schichte, 84 (Munich: Oldenbourg, 2002) Zweig, Ronald W., German Reparations and the Jewish World: A History of the Claims Conference (2nd edn.; London: Cass, 2001)

188 PUBLICATIONS OF THE GERMAN HISTORICAL INSTITUTE LONDON

Vol. 1: Wilhelm Lenz (ed.), Archivalische Quellen zur deutsch–britischen Geschichte seit 1500 in Großbritannien; Manuscript Sources for the History of Germany since 1500 in Great Britain (Boppard a. Rh.: Boldt, 1975)

Vol. 2: Lothar Kettenacker (ed.), Das ’Andere Deutschland’ im Zweiten Welt- krieg: Emigration und Widerstand in internationaler Perspektive; The ’Other Germany’ in the Second World War: Emigration and Resistance in International Perspective (Stuttgart: Klett, 1977)

Vol. 3: Marie-Luise Recker, England und der Donauraum, 1919–1929: Proble- me einer europäischen Nachkriegsordnung (Stuttgart: Klett, 1976)

Vol. 4: Paul Kluke and Peter Alter (eds), Aspekte der deutsch–britischen Bezie- hungen im Laufe der Jahrhunderte; Aspects of Anglo–German Relations through the Centuries (Stuttgart: Klett-Cotta, 1978)

Vol. 5: Wolfgang J. Mommsen, Peter Alter and Robert W. Scribner (eds), Stadtbürgertum und Adel in der Reformation: Studien zur Sozialgeschichte der Reformation in England und Deutschland; The Urban Classes, the Nobility and the Reformation: Studies on the Social History of the Reformation in England and Germany (Stuttgart: Klett-Cotta, 1979)

Vol. 6: Hans-Christoph Junge, Flottenpolitik und Revolution: Die Entstehung der englischen Seemacht während der Herrschaft Cromwells (Stuttgart: Klett-Cotta, 1980)

Vol. 7: Milan Hauner, India in Axis Strategy: Germany, Japan, and Indian Nationalists in the Second World War (Stuttgart: Klett-Cotta, 1981)

Vol. 8: Gerhard Hirschfeld and Lothar Kettenacker (eds), Der ’Führerstaat’: Mythos und Realität. Studien zur Struktur und Politik des Dritten Reiches; The ’Führer State’: Myth and Reality. Studies on the Structure and Politics of the Third Reich (Stuttgart: Klett-Cotta, 1981)

Vol. 9: Hans-Eberhard Hilpert, Kaiser- und Papstbriefe in den Chronica majo- ra des Matthaeus Paris (Stuttgart: Klett-Cotta, 1981)

Vol. 10: Wolfgang J. Mommsen and Gerhard Hirschfeld (eds), Sozialprotest, Gewalt, Terror: Gewaltanwendung durch politische and gesellschaftliche Rand- gruppen im 19. und 20. Jahrhundert (Stuttgart: Klett-Cotta, 1982)

189 Vol. 11: Wolfgang J. Mommsen and Wolfgang Mock (eds), Die Entstehung des Wohlfahrtsstaates in Großbritannien und Deutschland 1850–1950 (Stuttgart: Klett-Cotta, 1982)

Vol. 12: Peter Alter, Wissenschaft, Staat, Mäzene: Anfänge moderner Wissen- schaftspolitik in Großbritannien 1850-1920 (Stuttgart: Klett-Cotta, 1982)

Vol. 13: Wolfgang Mock, Imperiale Herrschaft und nationales Interesse: ‘Con- structive Imperialism’ oder Freihandel in Großbritannien vor dem Ersten Weltkrieg (Stuttgart: Klett-Cotta, 1982)

Vol. 14: Gerhard Hirschfeld (ed.), Exil in Großbritannien: Zur Emigration aus dem nationalsozialistischen Deutschland (Stuttgart: Klett-Cotta, 1982)

Vol. 15: Wolfgang J. Mommsen and Hans-Gerhard Husung (eds), Auf dem Wege zur Massengewerkschaft: Die Entwicklung der Gewerkschaften in Deutsch- land und Großbritannien 1880–1914 (Stuttgart: Klett-Cotta, 1984)

Vol. 16: Josef Foschepoth (ed.), Kalter Krieg und Deutsche Frage: Deutschland im Widerstreit der Mächte 1945–1952 (Göttingen and Zurich: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1985)

Vol. 17: Ulrich Wengenroth, Unternehmensstrategien und technischer Fort- schritt: Die deutsche und britische Stahlindustrie 1865–1895 (Göttingen and Zur- ich: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1986)

Vol. 18: Helmut Reifeld, Zwischen Empire und Parlament: Zur Gedankenbil- dung und Politik Lord Roseberys (1880–1905) (Göttingen and Zurich: Vanden- hoeck & Ruprecht, 1987)

Vol. 19: Michael Maurer, Aufklärung und Anglophilie in Deutschland (Göt- tingen and Zurich: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1987)

Vol. 20: Karl Heinz Metz, Industrialisierung und Sozialpolitik: Das Problem der sozialen Sicherheit in Großbritannien 1795–1911 (Göttingen and Zurich: Van- denhoeck & Ruprecht, 1988)

Vol. 21: Wolfgang J. Mommsen and Wolfgang Schwentker (eds), Max Weber und seine Zeitgenossen (Göttingen and Zurich: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1988)

Vol. 22: Lothar Kettenacker, Krieg zur Friedenssicherung: Die Deutschland- planung der britischen Regierung während des Zweiten Weltkrieges (Göttingen and Zurich: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1989)

190 Vol. 23: Adolf M. Birke and Günther Heydemann (eds), Die Herausforderung des europäischen Staatensystems: Nationale Ideologie und staatliches Interesse zwi- schen Restauration und Imperialismus (Göttingen and Zurich: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1989)

Vol. 24: Helga Woggon, Integrativer Sozialismus und nationale Befreiung: Politik und Wirkungsgeschichte James Connollys in Irland (Göttingen and Zurich: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1990)

Vol. 25: Kaspar von Greyerz, Vorsehungsglaube und Kosmologie: Studien zu englischen Selbstzeugnissen des 17. Jahrhunderts (Göttingen and Zurich: Van- denhoeck & Ruprecht, 1990)

Vol. 26: Andreas Wirsching, Parlament und Volkes Stimme: Unterhaus und Öffentlichkeit im England des frühen 19. Jahrhunderts (Göttingen and Zurich: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1990)

Vol. 27: Claudia Schnurmann, Kommerz und Klüngel: Der Englandhandel Kölner Kaufleute im 16. Jahrhundert (Göttingen and Zurich: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1991)

Vol. 28: Anselm Doering-Manteuffel, Vom Wiener Kongreß zur Pariser Konferenz: England, die deutsche Frage und das Mächtesystem 1815–1856 (Göt- tingen and Zurich: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1991)

Vol. 29: Peter Alter (ed.), Im Banne der Metropolen: Berlin und London in den zwanziger Jahren (Göttingen and Zurich: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1993)

Vol. 30: Hermann Wentker, Zerstörung der Großmacht Rußland? Die britischen Kriegsziele im Krimkrieg (Göttingen and Zurich: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1993)

Vol. 31: Angela Schwarz, Die Reise ins Dritte Reich: Britische Augenzeugen im nationalsozialistischen Deutschland (1933–1939) (Göttingen and Zurich: Van- denhoeck & Ruprecht, 1993)

Vol. 32: Johannes Paulmann, Staat und Arbeitsmarkt in Großbritannien: Krise, Weltkrieg, Wiederaufbau (Göttingen and Zurich: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1993)

Vol. 33: Clemens Picht, Handel, Politik und Gesellschaft: Zur wirtschafspoliti- schen Publizistik Englands im 18. Jahrhundert (Göttingen and Zurich: Vanden- hoeck & Ruprecht, 1993)

191 Vol. 34: Friedrich Weckerlein, Streitfall Deutschland: Die britische Linke und die ’Demokratisierung’ des Deutschen Reiches, 1900–1918 (Göttingen and Zurich: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1994)

Vol. 35: Klaus Larres, Politik der Illusionen: Churchill, Eisenhower und die deut- sche Frage 1945–1955 (Göttingen and Zurich: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1995)

Vol. 36: Günther Heydemann, Konstitution gegen Revolution: Die britische Deutschland- und Italienpolitik 1815–1848 (Göttingen and Zurich: Vanden- hoeck & Ruprecht, 1995)

Vol. 37: Hermann Joseph Hiery, Das Deutsche Reich in der Südsee (1900–1921): Eine Annäherung an die Erfahrungen verschiedener Kulturen (Göttingen and Zurich: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1995)

Vol. 38: Michael Toyka-Seid, Gesundheit und Krankheit in der Stadt: Zur Ent- wicklung des Gesundheitswesens in Durham City 1831–1914 (Göttingen and Zurich: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1996)

Vol. 39: Detlev Clemens, Herr Hitler in Germany: Wahrnehmung und Deutung des Nationalsozialismus in Großbritannien 1920 bis 1939 (Göttingen and Zurich: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1996)

Vol. 40: Christel Gade, Gleichgewichtspolitik oder Bündnispflege? Maximen britischer Außenpolitik (1910–1914) (Göttingen and Zurich: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1997)

Vol. 41: Benedikt Stuchtey, W. E. H. Lecky (1838–1903): Historisches Denken und politisches Urteilen eines anglo-irischen Gelehrten (Göttingen and Zurich: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1997)

Vol. 42: Sabine Sundermann, Deutscher Nationalismus im englischen Exil: Zum sozialen und politischen Innenleben der deutschen Kolonie in London 1848 bis 1871 (Paderborn: Schöningh, 1997)

Vol. 43: Knut Diekmann, Die nationalistische Bewegung in Wales (Paderborn: Schöningh, 1998)

Vol. 44: Bärbel Brodt, Städte ohne Mauern: Stadtentwicklung in East Anglia im 14. Jahrhundert (Paderborn: Schöningh, 1997)

Vol. 45: Arnd Reitemeier, Außenpolitik im Spätmittelalter: Die diplomatischen Beziehungen zwischen dem Reich und England 1377 (Paderborn: Schöningh, 1999)

192 Vol. 46: Gerhard A. Ritter and Peter Wende (eds), Rivalität und Partnerschaft: Studien zu den deutsch-britischen Beziehungen im 19. und 20. Jahrhundert. Fest- schrift für Anthony J. Nicholls (Paderborn: Schöningh, 1999)

Vol. 47: Ulrich Marsch, Zwischen Wissenschaft und Wirtschaft: Industriefor- schung in Deutschland und Großbritannien 1880–1936 (Paderborn: Schöningh, 2000)

Vol. 48: Lothar Reinermann, Der Kaiser in England: Wilhelm II. und die bri- tische Öffentlichkeit (Paderborn: Schöningh, 2001)

Vol. 49: Josef Reindl, Wachstum und Wettbewerb in den Wirtschaftswunder- jahren: Die elektrotechnische Industrie in der Bundesrepublik Deutschland und Großbritannien 1945–1967 (Paderborn: Schöningh, 2001)

Vol. 50: Jörn Leonhard, Liberalismus: Zur historischen Semantik eines europä- ischen Deutungsmusters (Munich: Oldenbourg, 2001)

Vol. 51: Willibald Steinmetz, Begegnungen vor Gericht: Eine Sozial- und Kul- turgeschichte des englischen Arbeitsrechts, 1850–1925 (Munich: Oldenbourg, 2001)

Vol. 52: Andreas Rödder, Die radikale Herausforderung: Die politische Kultur der englischen Konservativen zwischen ländlicher Tradition und industrieller Mo- derne (1846–1868) (Munich: Oldenbourg, 2002)

Vol. 53: Dominik Geppert, Thatchers konservative Revolution: Der Richtungs- wandel der britischen Tories 1975 bis 1979 (Munich: Oldenbourg, 2002)

Vol. 54: Nikolaus Braun, Terrorismus und Freiheitskampf: Gewalt, Propaganda und politische Strategie im Irischen Bürgerkrieg 1922–23 (Munich: Oldenbourg, 2003)

Vol. 55: Andreas Fahrmeir, Ehrbare Spekulanten: Stadtverfassung, Wirtschaft und Politik in der City of London (1688–1900) (Munich: Oldenbourg, 2003)

Vol. 56: Christoph Heyl, A Passion for Privacy: Untersuchungen zur Genese der bürgerlichen Privatsphäre in London, ca. 1660–1800 (Munich: Oldenbourg, forth- coming 2003)

Vol. 57: Ulrike Lindner, Politik—Gesundheitswesen—Patienten: Maßnahmen und Auswirkungen von Gesundheitspolitik in der Bundesrepublik Deutschland und in Großbritannien 1948–1965 (Munich: Oldenbourg, forthcoming 2003)

193 STUDIES OF THE GERMAN HISTORICAL INSTITUTE LONDON—OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS

Eckhart Hellmuth (ed.), The Transformation of Political Culture: England and Germany in the Late Eighteenth Century (Oxford, 1990)

Ronald G. Asch and Adolf M. Birke (eds.), Princes, Patronage, and the Nobility: The Court at the Beginning of the Modern Age c. 1450–1650 (Oxford, 1991)

Rolf Ahmann, Adolf M. Birke, and Michael Howard (eds.), The Quest for Stability: Problems of West European Security 1918–1957 (Oxford, 1993)

Alfred Haverkamp and Hanna Vollrath (eds.), England and Germany in the High Middle Ages (Oxford, 1996)

John Brewer and Eckhart Hellmuth (eds.), Rethinking Leviathan: The Eight- eenth-Century State in Britain and Germany (Oxford, 1999)

Benedikt Stuchtey and Peter Wende (eds.), British and German Historiography 1750–1950: Traditions, Perceptions, and Transfers (Oxford, 2000)

Willibald Steinmetz (ed.), Private Law and Social Inequality in the Industrial Age: Comparing Legal Cultures in Britain, France, Germany, and the United States (Oxford, 2000)

Martin H. Geyer and Johannes Paulmann (eds.), The Mechanics of Inter- nationalism: Culture, Society, and Politics from the 1840s to the First World War (Oxford, 2001)

Jeremy Noakes, Peter Wende, and Jonathan Wright (eds.), Britain and Germany in Europe 1949–1990 (Oxford, 2002)

Benedikt Stuchtey and Eckhardt Fuchs (eds.), Writing World History 1800–2000 (Oxford, forthcoming 2003)

Dominik Geppert (ed.), The Postwar Challenge: Cultural, Social, and Political Change in Western Europe, 1945–1958 (Oxford, forthcoming 2003)

194 FURTHER PUBLICATIONS OF THE GERMAN HISTORICAL INSTITUTE LONDON

Wolfgang J. Mommsen and Wolfgang Mock (eds.), The Emergence of the Wel- fare State in Britain and Germany (London: Croom Helm, 1981)

Wolfgang J. Mommsen and Gerhard Hirschfeld (eds.), Social Protest, Violence and Terror in Nineteenth- and Twentieth-Century Europe (London: Macmillan, 1982)

Wolfgang J. Mommsen and Lothar Kettenacker (eds.), The Fascist Challenge and the Policy of Appeasement (London: Allen & Unwin, 1983)

Gerhard Hirschfeld (ed.), Exile in Great Britain: Refugees from Hitler’s Germany (Leamington Spa: Berg Publishers, 1984)

Kaspar von Greyerz (ed.), Religion, Politics and Social Protest: Three Studies on Early Modern Germany (London: Allen & Unwin, 1984)

Kaspar von Greyerz (ed.), Religion and Society in Early Modern Europe 1500–1800 (London: Allen & Unwin, 1985)

Josef Foschepoth and Rolf Steininger (eds.), Die britische Deutschland- und Be- satzungspolitik 1945–1949 (Paderborn: Ferdinand Schöningh, 1985)

Wolfgang J. Mommsen and Hans-Gerhard Husung (eds.), The Development of Trade Unionism in Great Britain and Germany, 1880-1914 (London: Allen & Unwin, 1985)

Wolfgang J. Mommsen and Jürgen Osterhammel (eds.), Imperialism and After: Continuities and Discontinuities (London: Allen & Unwin, 1986)

Gerhard Hirschfeld (ed.), The Policies of Genocide: Jews and Soviet Prisoners of War in Nazi Germany (London: Allen & Unwin, 1986)

Ralph Uhlig, Die Deutsch-Englische Gesellschaft 1949–1983: Der Beitrag ihrer ‘Königswinter-Konferenzen’ zur britisch-deutschen Verständigung (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1986)

Wolfgang J. Mommsen and Jürgen Osterhammel (eds.), Max Weber and his Contemporaries (London: Allen & Unwin, 1987)

195 Peter Alter, The Reluctant Patron: Science and the State in Britain 1850–1920 (Leamington Spa: Berg Publishers, 1987)

Stig Förster, Wolfgang J. Mommsen and Ronald Robinson (eds.), Bismarck, Europe, and Africa: The Berlin Africa Conference 1884–1885 and the Onset of Partition (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1988)

Adolf M. Birke, Hans Booms and Otto Merker (eds.), Control Commission for Germany/British Element: Inventory; Die britische Militärregierung in Deutsch- land: Inventar, 11 vols (Munich etc.: Saur Verlag, 1993)

Günther Heydemann and Lothar Kettenacker (eds.), Kirchen in der Diktatur (Göttingen and Zurich: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1993)

Dagmar Engels and Shula Marks (eds.), Contesting Colonial Hegemony: Africa and India 1858 to Independence (London and New York: British Academic Press, 1993)

Ulrike Jordan (ed.), Conditions of Surrender: Britons and Germans Witness the End of the War (London: I. B. Tauris, 1996)

Hermann Hiery and John Mackenzie (eds.), European Impact and Pacific Influence: British and German Colonial Policy in the Pacific Islands and the In- digenous Response (London: I. B. Tauris, 1997)

Peter Alter (ed.), Out of the Third Reich: Refugee Historians in Post-War Britain (London and New York: I. B. Tauris, 1998)

Sabine Freitag and Peter Wende (eds.), British Envoys to Germany, 1816–1866, vol. 1: 1816–1829, Camden Fifth Series, 15 (Cambridge: Cambridge Univer- sity Press for the Royal Historical Society in association with the German Historical Institute London, 2000)

Markus Mößlang, Sabine Freitag, and Peter Wende (eds.), British Envoys to Germany, 1816–1866, vol. 2: 1830–1847, Camden Fifth Series, 21 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press for the Royal Historical Society in association with the German Historical Institute London, 2002)

196 HOUSE PUBLICATIONS OF THE GERMAN HISTORICAL INSTITUTE LONDON

Wolfgang J. Mommsen, Two Centuries of Anglo–German Relations: A Re- appraisal (London, 1984)

Adolf M. Birke, Britain and Germany: Historical Patterns of a Relationship (London, 1987)

Gerhard A. Ritter, The New Social History in the Federal Republic of Germany (London, 1991)

Adolf M. Birke and Eva A. Mayring (eds), Britische Besatzung in Deutschland: Aktenerschließung und Forschungsfelder (London, 1992)

Gerhard A. Ritter, Big Science in Germany: Past and Present (London, 1994)

Adolf M. Birke, Britain’s Influence on the West German Constitution (London, 1995)

Otto Gerhard Oexle, The British Roots of the Max-Planck-Gesellschaft (London, 1995)

Lothar Kettenacker and Wolfgang J. Mommsen (eds.), Research on British History in the Federal Republic of Germany 1978–1983 (London, 1983)

Frank Rexroth (ed.), Research on British History in the Federal Republic of Germany 1983–1988: An Annotated Bibliography (London, 1990)

Ulrike Jordan (ed.), Research on British History in the Federal Republic of Germany 1989–1994: An Annotated Bibliography (London, 1996)

Andreas Fahrmeir (ed.), Research on British History in the Federal Republic of Germany 1995–1997: An Annotated Bibliography (London, 1998)

Regina Pörtner (ed.), Research on British History in the Federal Republic of Germany 1998–2000: An Annotated Bibliography (London, 2002)

197 Annual Lectures of the German Historical Institute London

1979 Samuel Berrick Saul, Industrialisation and De-Industrialisation? The Interaction of the German and British Economies before the First World War (London, 1980)

1980 Karl Dietrich Erdmann, Gustav Stresemann: The Revision of Versailles and the Weimar Parliamentary System (London, 1981)

1981 A. J. P. Taylor, 1939 Revisited (London, 1982)

1982 Gordon A. Craig, Germany and the West: The Ambivalent Relationship (London, 1983)

1983 Wolfram Fischer, Germany in the World Economy during the Nineteenth Century (London, 1984)

1984 James Joll, National Histories and National Historians: Some German and English Views of the Past (London, 1985)

1985 Wolfgang J. Mommsen, Britain and Germany 1800 to 1914: Two Deve- lopmental Paths Towards Industrial Society (London, 1986)

1986 Owen Chadwick, Acton, Döllinger and History (London, 1987)

1987 Hagen Schulze, Is there a German History? (London, 1988)

1988 Roger Morgan, Britain and Germany since 1945: Two Societies and Two Foreign Policies (London, 1989)

1989 Thomas Nipperdey, The Rise of the Arts in Modern Society (London, 1990)

1990 Not available

1991 Lothar Gall, Confronting Clio: Myth-Makers and Other Historians (London, 1992)

1992 Keith Robbins, Protestant Germany through British Eyes: A Complex Victorian Encounter (London, 1993)

1993 Klaus Hildebrand, Reich—Nation-State—Great Power: Reflections on German Foreign Policy 1871–1945 ( London, 1995)

198 1994 Alan Bullock, Personality and Power: the Strange Case of Hitler and Stalin (London, 1995)

1995 Ernst Schulin, ‘The Most Historical of All Peoples’: Nationalism and the New Construction of Jewish History in Nineteenth-Century Germany (London, 1996)

1996 Michael Howard, The Crisis of the Anglo-German Antagonism 1916–17 (London, 1997)

1997 Johannes Fried, The Veil of Memory: Anthropological Problems when Con- sidering the Past (London, 1998)

1998 David Blackbourn, A Sense of Place: New Directions in German History (London, 1999)

1999 Gerhard A. Ritter, Continuity and Change: Political and Social Develop- ments in Germany after 1945 and 1989/90 (London, 2000)

2000 Peter Pulzer, Fog in Channel: Anglo-German Perceptions in the Nine- teenth Century (London, 2001)

2001 Heinrich A. Winkler, The Long Shadow of the Reich: Weighing Up Ger- man History (London, 2002)

Bulletin of the German Historical Institute London, Issue 1 (Spring, 1979)-

Bulletin Index, 1979–1996 (London, 1996), plus supplement for the years 1997–2001

199